The Gunman
by Roach99
Summary: After getting killed in a top-secret mission gone wrong, I'm suddenly in some crazy place known as "Remnant": where everything there is a gun and kids are a capable at moving sub-sonic speeds. Not only that, I get involved in a huge conspiracy involving a terrorist organization while I'm working alongside some kooky headmaster that can kill me at a moment's notice. Just great...
1. Chapter 1: Brave New World

**Author's Notes:** **Hello everyone, Roach99 here. I had this little idea in my head for a _LONG_ time now and I just wanted get it out. So here it is. Welcome to RWBY: The Gunman. **

**First, I just to explain a few things: I'm writing this story because I got bored of reading OC stories (some of them are good, while others... not so much. Not naming names though, I just wanted to point that out. But why am I to judge? I won't know how this'll turn out) and decided to make my own, bringing along something different to the fandom (well, if this can be considered different, but I might as well write this and see where it goes).**

 **Also, I want to clarify that this particular OC is from the future, around more than a decade (2028, to to be precise), so there will be references from this character's future. He's ex-military for less than good reasons, so please excuse any mistakes over the little amount of knowledge concerning any subjects on the military.**

 **And lastly, I want to point out that first few chapters take place _FOUR _ years before the events of RWBY, so some of the characters in the story will be a little different before resuming their canon personalities. That's all I wanted to say.**

 **Now, let's get started.**

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 **I do not own RWBY.**

 _"Evil is also not anything small or close to home, and not the worst; otherwise one could grow accustomed to it."  
-Jacob **Grimm**. _

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**-Chapter 1: Brave New World-**

So this is what it felt like to die? Huh, I'm actually not surprised. Usually one would think that a choir of angels and a golden stairway to Paradise would greet them, but for people like me, I would've received a fiery pit, what I would see would be a lesson for every sin that I have committed for and against the name of humanity. For others, they expected nothing to happen as they died, just... nothing, ceasing to live, to think, just... not existing.

But it seemed that some other deity had something in store for me. For me, it felt like a dream. Surrounded by darkness and unable to see even two inches in front of me, not even my own hand, which I could still feel. It felt as though I was falling, nothing below me, but I felt no wind. Was this my punishment? Simple oblivion? Leaving me with my own thoughts and no one else to hear them forever? Eh, I guess it'll have to do for a man like me. I felt like I deserved it for some reason, despite the fact that I was one of the best at what I did, it was my misfortune that put a bullet between my eyes.

I actually expected to die much later in my life, at least into my forties, and it had to be pretty epic, like a mixture of alcohol, gunpowder, and explosions AKA Michael Bay's wet dream. But no, my later twenties would have to do. And I was so close to turning thirty! Just two more years!

Did I mention that I was shot in the head? Because that happened too. I had undertook a special mission for a fat sum of money; with high risks and a good chance of death, just my kind of job. I was the best at what I did, and I did it pretty damn well. Too bad Luck was an unpredictable bitch of a factor to take into account. Despite all the training that I had received, all the experience that I had been through, all it took was for the bad guy to easily put a bullet into my cranium. Yeah, Lady Luck can be a cold-hearted bitch, and so here I was.

I just hope They finished my mission for me and recovered my body; and they better fucking burn me, I don't want the Institution to have my body in a coffin, six feet under and placed among the rest of the dead, serving as a lesson for being too unlucky for the recruits.

 _"This man was the best at what he did, undertaking heroic deeds and transcending beyond what he had done. He will be missed,"_ I imagined them saying. Yeah, 'heroic' my ass.

Well, I guess this is it, just a simple, dark damnation. I closed my eyes in acceptance, this was my life... or lack thereof.

 **"Not exactly,"** a voice boomed out from beyond the darkness. This voice sounded old and ragged, like an aged military veteran. That, or he was just old.

I felt my eyes open once more and stare out into the abyss, "Hey? Who's there? Are you God? Cause if you are, pipe down! I'm trying to get some shut-eye here!"

 **"No, I'm not God,"** it answered, **"I'm... someone else."**

"Ooh, so vague, very mysterious. Look, if all you're here to do is give me cryptic bullshit, then just cut to the chase."

 **"You are impatient."**

"You don't say?" I snarked at the voice with an irritated tone.

 **"Be quiet, you ignorant fool! What I am trying to say is that I can grant you life once more,"** the loud, booming voice explained, earning the attention of the recently dead man.

"Really? If I believed in reincarnation earlier, I would've been living in the East," I sneered at the voice.

 **"You are bitter as** **well,"** the voice spoke in a low, gravely voice.

"You know me too well!" I gasped mockingly, unafraid of the capabilities of this whatever-it-was' power. I was dead it this point, what did I have to be afraid of at this point? Oh shit, I spoke too soon. Please don't jinx me, Luck, I know you hate me, but please just let me off easy this time.

 **"What I'm trying to explain to you is that I can bring you back to life and let you live again as you, and only you, as well as extend your lifespan, if only slightly."**

I raised an eyebrow, "I'm listening... wait, what's the catch? There's always a catch, isn't there?" I looked into the black void with a suspicious look.

 **"Correct. First off-"**

"Oh great, there's more than one. What, am I going to come back with a third arm or something?" I rolled my eyes at the voice.

 **"I said, BE QUIET! Ahem, first, you will not return to Earth. You will be transported elsewhere; another world."**

"Like what? Mars?"

 **"No, that is too narrow-minded. You're going somewhere different."**

"Definitely not Earth. Another planet that's _so_ different? Who would've guessed?"

 **"The next condition: You will end up in this world with only the items that you had at the time of your death,"** the voice continued.

Alright, that had me thinking. What did I bring with me when I died? My suit, my rifle, my wallet, my knife and sidearm, water, whiskey... what were the last ones... oh yeah!

"What about my two, ahem,... 'friends?'" I asked.

 **"Your two companions will be with you as well."**

"Sweet," I grinned at the voice.

 **"As for the last condition: You will be given a gift from me."**

"I'm starting to like you even more, oh great and powerful voice. So, what'll it be?" my mischievous smile grew even wider from the voice's last condition.

 **"In due time, you will find out,"** he answered in a vague tone, which certainly killed my mood.

"Okay, you killed it. Why do you have to be so cryptic? Can't you just tell me?" I demanded. I mean seriously, is it too hard to even answer a simple question with an equally plain answer?

 **"You will have to earn it,"** the voice chastised me.

Earn it? Well, that either meant money or work, and since this deity didn't sound like he needed cash, so that left work. Oh wait, there was a third option, and I certainly didn't like it.

"By 'earning' it, do you mean I have to learn some sort of moral lesson or something? Is that why I was brought here? Just to make me see the error of my ways?!" I screamed at the voice in fury before finally calming down, taking deep breaths just to prevent myself from going off on another rant.

 **"Hmph, for one who has grown both physically, as well as from experience, you think too childishly. No, you were brought here by mere chance, there is no magic life lesson to be learned, or a secret meaning nor metaphor. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."**

"Tell me about it, dying isn't really the best thing to happen to you early in the morning," I agreed, given my circumstances.

I then clapped my hand to my chest, "Well then, it seems that we have run out of things to talk about. So, let's get this over with then."

 **"I agree. Let us proceed. Good luck, you are going to need it,"** he said before silence filled the void that I was currently in.

"Yeah, whatever..." I said, waving off the voice's comment, "...Hey, how long is this gonna take? Is there some sort of charge or will it happen in an-"

This was the part where I fell unconscious.

 **-oOo-**

"-Instant?" I finished, my eyes opened to see a blue sky in front of me. I looked over to see that I was laying down. I proceeded to get up and brush off anything dust or grime that happened to accumulate on me.

I looked around to see that I was in a forest, the leaves that densely covered the trees that made up these woods were a bright emerald green, some of them reminded me of oak trees, while a few other sorts of flora looked like pine trees as well. That meant that this place had to at least be similar to Earth in some way.

A pond was nearby, so I clumsily walked over to the small body of water, still trying to get used to walking on my legs once more. I stepped over to the pond and plopped myself in front of it, leaning over to get a better view of my face. Rather than my face, I was greeted by the reflection of a silver helmet, similar to that of a motorcycle helmet, but slimmer as well as having a more militaristic feel to it.

With the realization that I was wearing a helmet, I looked down to see that the rest of my suit was completely intact. No shards of metal embedded in my innards, no bullet wounds strewn across my muscles. It was clean, it was immaculate.

 _'Activate,"_ I commanded. If I'm right, then the neural link between me and the suit were now intact again.

In less than a second, the near-bulletproof fiberglass that separated me from the outside world spark to life. Code written in Binary suddenly started whirring across the screen before disappearing.

 _ **"Hello: Eddy,"**_ a feminine robotic voice said to me. Audio system? Functional. I looked down at my hands and flexed each finger successfully. Motor functions? Normal.

"Bring up my HUD," I ordered. Immediately, I was greeted by a screen filled with all the necessary information, as well as a few miscellaneous displays and personal modifications: Armor condition, radar, the KIT meter, physical condition, brainwave scanner (though that was optional, given that I already knew my current mental status), language translator (it's not necessary though, given that I am fluent in several languages), energy/power percentage ( the battery was self-sufficient, thank goodness for modern science and engineering!), thruster pack, ammunition, and currently held weapons.

Oh, speaking of which. I reached over my shoulder and pulled my primary firearm: a fully modernized and re-outfitted M4 Carbine. These babies were put back on the shelf long after the War and were replaced with newer versions. I gave the gun a quick inspection: aiming through the sights, opening the chamber and peering inside to see that it was both clean and empty, etc.

Once I was finished, I slung it over my shoulder and unsheathed the combat knife strapped to my hip, running my fingers across the black, non-reflective surface of my KA-BAR knife. Seeing that it was both clean and pretty damn sharp-looking, I sheathed it with one final confirmation.

Finally, on my other side, I unholstered my sidearm: an old (very old, for emphasis) M1911 semi-automatic pistol, modified so it could be used for the more modern times. Belonged to my great-grandfather during World War One, passed onto my grandfather, where he found use in it during World War Two; which was then passed onto my dad in the 80's when he was a kid, which he held onto until he passed it onto me. I looked at the four-leaf clover carved into the handle, it was a family myth that this gun was actually lucky. I chuckled at the claim, trying to decide that that was either bullshit, given that I took a bullet to the head and died, or the beginning that this gun meant for killing people actually had some sort of voodoo witch doctor powers that had thrown me into meeting with the Voice that brought me back to life.

With all weapons accounted for, I decided to wake up my friends. Tapping the side of my helmet repeatedly with my left index finger, "Wake up, you two!"

At first, I was greeted with silence, but seconds later, I heard a pair of voices come from within my helmet.

 _ **"What the-... Whuh? Wait, Eddy?! You're alive?! How!? What!?"**_ a high-pitched feminine voice screamed in my head, I quickly shushed her.

 _ **"Eddy? Is that really you? How are you still alive. Your vitals clearly stated that you were dead, completely dead. Mind telling me how you completely defied all logic and somehow resurrected yourself from the dead? Where are we anyway?"**_ a reasoned and calmer masculine voice spoke into my mind. I then turned around and looked up at the sky, although it was daytime, there was still a faint outline of a moon, a shattered moon, confirming the AI's question and furthering my proof that I certainly was not in Kansas anymore.

"First off, Zeta! Calm down! Second, I can explain later, Omicron. I just need to find a way out of here before something tries to kill me," I said, grabbing my rifle from my shoulder and holding it in front of me with the barrel pointed downward.

 _ **"Um... about that..."**_ Zeta said nervously. Sheesh, having a computer program with emotions inside one's head was _certainly_ comforting, given the circumstances. But hey, I needed company when I was alone.

 _ **"There's movement on your radar,"**_ Omicron finished the first AI's sentence. My eyes flicked downward to the lower left level of my screen to see that there was, in fact, a small red blip on the circled map, approximately 50 meters away. No, scratch that, 45 meters.

"Suggestions?"

 _ **"Don't engage until we get clear view of what we're dealing with, should they attack, then you have full authority to** **deal with the threat,"** _ the feminine artificial intelligence recommended. I only responded by inserting a magazine, cocking the rifle, turning off the safety, and moving the switch to semi-automatic.

"Perfect," I flicked my eyes downward to see the red dots getting closer, I raised the gun to eye level towards the closest one, which was only fifteen meters away. I lowered the rifle slightly, "Come on out and no one needs to get hurt!"

 _ **"Says the guy lugging the gun around like a large, flaccid-"**_

 _ **"Zeta, shut up,"**_ Omicron chastised the 'female' computer program. I only rolled my eyes as the two continued to bicker. I watched as the bushes in front of me continued to rustle more and more like a bunch of sexually-frustrated teenagers.

Rather than what I thought was only something harmless, instead, a creature emerged from the shrubbery and strode menacingly closer to me. The creature itself was completely black, save for a white mask-like face with red markings, as well as several bone-like protrusions coming out of it's back and arms. It's face vaguely resembled a wolf, as well as the growls that it was emitting towards me.

The AI's stopped their full-blown arguments and observed the creature as well, reading my thoughts on it's characteristics, _**"Sounds like a wolf and looks a little like a wolf, you're most likely on it's territory."**_

 _'Yeah, no shit!'_ I mentally hissed at the two of them, knowing that they are able to listen to my thoughts. I decided to do the most reasonable thing when having to deal with an animal; I placed my gun down, slowly and gently, then proceeded to back away.

"Nice killer animal, good doggy. No murder for you," I slowly said, my hands raised above my head in an attempt to calm the creature down.

That was when I realized I made a mistake. This wolf-dog-demon-thing took my passiveness (heh, didn't know that actually belonged in a sentence where I'm the subject!) as a sign of weakness, it threw it's head back and let out a loud howl before charging at me with a look of ravenous fury in it's bright orange eyes.

My enhanced instincts, as well as my military experience, were thrown into full gear as I kicked the gun up into my hands, quickly took aim, and repeatedly fired a barrage of shots at the creature. The beast continued to lumber towards me (albeit much slowly now), ignoring any shots placed on it's body before finally swiping at me with one of it's bowie knife-length claws, I ducked under it's attack and slammed the butt of my rifle against it's head, sending it to the ground. I finished off the monster with a well-placed shot under it's head as it was laying on it's back when it fell.

"My, what big hands you have, granny," I remarked as I then poked at the dead wolf-creature with the end of the barrel, flinching slightly as it's body began to disintegrate.

 _ **"That is not a wolf..."**_ Zeta 'exhaled'. I shrugged my shoulders, slung my rifle over my shoulder, and brushed off anything the dirt that had fallen from the creature and onto me.

"Well, considering that we're not on Earth, you're probably right. But for now, the most logical thing to do would be to search for any form of civilization."

 _ **"And if there's no civilization to be found?"**_ Omicron wondered.

 _ **"Then we make one. Granted, it might take a couple of centuries, and taking into account that you're far from immortal, our chances of success would be slim. But if we can pull it off, we might be able to establish a-"**_

 _ **"Zeta, please be realistic. Right now, we have bigger problems,"**_ Omicron advised.

"Like what?" I asked quizzically.

 _ **"Well, the creature you just killed is our dilemma. If I'm right, and I usually am, then it's characteristics as a wolf might be a hazard to us,"**_ he explained.

"It's not a wolf."

 _ **"Just bear with me alright? It howls, it moves on all fours, it's territorial, it even looks a little like a wolf. Are you catching on?"**_

"Just get to the point," I crossed my arms in irritation.

 _ **"What I'm trying to say is that if this thing shares such characteristics, then that howl it emitted earlier was a call for..."**_ the AI's voice faltered as seven more blips surrounded my radar.

"Ah, son of a bitch," I grumbled, removing my rifle from my back and watching as several more creatures circled around me.

 _ **"Reinforcements,"**_ Omicron finished.

"My, what big teeth you have, grandma," I commented as one of the beasts growled, baring it's fangs at me. I raised my rifle, took aim at the closest wolf-creature, and fired.

 **-oOo-**

 **Meanwhile...**

An anomaly on the map... a stupid anomaly on a freaking map in the Emerald Forest...

"Who would be stupid enough to suddenly end up in the Emerald Forest?" Goodwitch muttered under her breath.

Professor Glynda Goodwitch was having a really bad day. Another day at Beacon meant another day of having to deal with inexperienced students, who would rather do nothing but talk during class, laze around, even some of the fourth-year students had attempted to flirt with her. And now the Headmaster, Ozpin, sends her of all people to deal with this problem, _just great_...

Glynda continued to walk through the forest at a quick pace, knowing that whoever was in the woods probably wouldn't last long on their own. The negative side of her told her to just leave this person to die, it was their fault that they ended up there, they should pay for the consequences, just go back and tell Ozpin that it was too late and that the person was dead when she arrived. But the other voice, her conscience, the very thing that gave her a reason to be a Huntress, told her that abandoning anyone in need would be wrong, so she complied with her voice of reason.

As she trekked through the woods, Glynda continued to dispatch any Creature of Grimm that had the misfortune of crossing her path, leaving a trail of torn apart and tossed about Grimm in her wake.

Despite her poor attitude during this otherwise beautiful afternoon, she was also perplexed by the fact that a sudden dot appeared on the map of the Emerald Forest. It just... appeared there, dead center of the forest, rather than appearing on the edge of the map and suddenly making their way to the center. This could either go really good, with a person actually ending up here, or really bad for the Ozpin if she just finds nothing and she was sent here just to further darken her mood.

Fortunately for the Headmaster, Glynda heard the sounds of gunshots in the distance . With a thought of confirmation, she broke into a sprint in the direction of the gunfire. Despite the fact that she was still wearing high heels, she actually covered a decent amount of ground, hoping that this unfortunate person was still in one piece by the time she got there.

In just a few minutes, she finally arrived to the scene, only to be greeted by a rather... _interesting_ sight, and by that, she spotted a figure dressed completely in an armored grey outfit fighting a pair of Ursai, with dead Beowolves strewn about the battle still in the middle of fading away into nothing.

And by "fighting" the Grimm, the unfortunate Grimm was lying on the ground with it's face being repeatedly smashed in with the bottom of the figure's foot. In other words, with one Ursa currently stunned and the other basically being curb-stomped, the Professor almost felt sorry for the Grimm.

Almost.

Suddenly, before Glynda could even react, one of the Ursai had recovered from it's previous injuries and quickly lumbered towards the assailant. As the figure was currently in the middle of stomping the Grimm's head into paste, he was unaware of the Ursa that was behind him.

"Look out!" Glynda shouted, the figure stopped in mid-stomp, only for the Ursa to bite down on the figure's hand and quickly pull away, taking the hand with it. Glynda suddenly felt sick as the attacker's left hand was severed from his body, but rather than scream out in agony, he only turned to the Grimm and punched it in the face with the stump of where the figure's hand formerly was.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER! DO! YOU! KNOW! HOW! MUCH! THESE! THINGS! COST?!" the figure screamed at the Grimm in fury as it kicked it to the ground, pulled out a knife, and started to stab it repeatedly in the head as he continued to yell at the beast, even when it was already dead. Glynda felt herself turn a shade of green as she listened to the sickening sound of a metal knife scraping against bone repeatedly.

After the Grimm had finally faded away, the figure rose to his feet and turned to face Glynda, with the Professor staring back. The figure was dressed in a slim grey bodysuit with thin segments of some kind of plating covering several vital parts of the body: the legs, chest, arms, and back. Covering the figure's head was a helmet, which was grey like the rest of his attire (she assumed that the person was male, given the shape of his body).

Before Glynda could say a word, the figure pulled out a pistol from his holster and pointed it at her, "Don't move."

"I'm only trying to help," Glynda tried to calm him down.

Her hand went to the riding crop that she had been carrying. Obviously, the figure was jumpy, after having to fight a pack of Grimm, it seemed plausible that he would still regard anyone as a-

 ***BANG!***

Glynda froze as the man fired a single shot at her, but it seemed that he had missed. She finally grabbed onto her riding crop and pointed it at him in defense, but the man spun the pistol in his hand and holstered it.

"So am I," he responded. Glynda gave the man a strange look before hearing a thump from behind her, she turned to see a Beowolf that had fallen over, a single bullet hole between it's eyes, "Thanks for holding still, blondie. Now, what's a pretty woman like you doing out here in the big, bad forest?"

The Professor recollected her thoughts and gave the man a hard stare, "I was sent here to investigate an anomaly in the forest, it seems like I have found it. Come with me."

He looked at the woman for a while, moving his head back and forth for some reason, as though having a conversation between two people. The man finally stopped and looked at her, "All right then, lead the way, beautiful."

Glynda's eye twitched slightly as she nodded, turned, and walked back to Beacon, with the man following closely behind.

With that last comment from the man, she only hoped that Ozpin would give her a raise after this assignment, otherwise she would be thoroughly pissed.

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 **Disclaimer: So what do you think of this story? Leave a review and let me know what you think of this.**

 **And as always, for my fellow reviewers: stay beautiful, ladies and gents.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Headmaster

**Q &A & Responses:**

 **Twain Apprentice:** **At least I got your attention, which is nice...**

 **welcometodalolz:** **Actually, it's only slightly based on Halo, as well marginally based on Red vs Blue (the AIs, Zeta and Omicron). It's actually based on Crysis (with a few personal additions to the Nanosuit, as well as a similar HUD, as well as having the same color scheme).**

 **The only portion involving Halo is the thruster pack and the fact that the helmet slightly resembles the EVA helmet, but a majority of the helmet's appearance and design of the suit goes to Tron: Legacy (with the suit being a sleeker version of the Nanosuit, and with the helmet taking a more "Rinzler" appearance, than the EVA helmet).**

 **thenotes146:** **You'll see in this chapter.**

 **Acerman:** **Thank you, I appreciate it.**

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 ** **Author's Notes:** **Well, this went better than I thought it would go. Now then, let us continue with the story once more, HUZZAH!****

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 **I do not own RWBY.**

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 **-Chapter 2: The Headmaster-**

"I was sent here to investigate an anomaly in the forest, it seems like I have found it. Come with me," the lady in front of me had said. Telling from those mannerisms she carried herself with for the past few minutes, I could tell that this girl was the no-nonsense type of person, that usually means she meant business.

 _'Zeta, Omicron, your observations?'_ I thought to the two.

 _ **"Coming from the fact that there is a human standing in front of us, we can safely assume that this world may not be so different from ours,"**_ Omicron observed the woman from the camera lens on my helmet.

 _ **"And the way she dresses suggests order, obviously that there is a form of civilization,"**_ Zeta added to the male AI's observations.

I shifted my head slightly to the right, not paying attention to the woman who was still waiting for me to respond.

 _'Suggestions?'_

 ** _"Best idea's to go with her. You are going to have to spend the rest of your life on this world, it seems, so the best course of action is to obey this person's instructions and see where it leads you,"_** Omicron answered.

 _'And you, Zeta?'_

 _ **"Eh, Omicron's got the right idea, I say go with it,"**_ she agreed.

 _'And my hand?'_ I mentally asked the two, looking down at the stump where my hand used to be.

 _ **"You can get a new one, if they at least have decent technology."**_

Good point, all good points.

 _'Alright, I'll do it. You two shut down and I'll take it from here,'_ I thought, feeling a sudden tingle in the back of my head as the two deactivated. When I ended the conversation between the two programs, I then focused my attention to the blonde woman in front of me, who was currently giving me a strange look.

I nodded to the girl, "All right then, lead the way, beautiful."

In a split second, I saw the girl's eye twitch underneath that neutral facade. She was obviously annoyed by my comments. I watched as she rolled her eyes in irritation and turned around, walking away with me following close behind.

As we continued to walk, I got a more detailed view of the woman's appearance; she wore a long-sleeved buttoned shirt with puffy sleeves that exposed a part of her chest, as well as a buttoned black skirt that wrapped around the shirt, her pale-blonde hair was tied back in a bun, with a curl running down the right side of her face, she also seemed to be wearing a tattered black cape as well as high heels, which made her at least five inches taller than me. In summary: she was quite beautiful indeed.

"Sooo... where are we going?" I asked, deciding to strike up a conversation.

"You'll see," she responded. Fuck, and I thought the Voice was the only one that gave this cryptic crap.

"What's your name?"

"Goodwitch," she responded. Well, at least we're off to a start.

"Is that your first name or your last name?"

"Does it matter?" the lady looked at me with a stern expression.

"Hey, I just wanted to have some small talk, okay? What's your name?" I raised my hands up a little in protest before letting them down as she sighed in annoyance.

"It's Glynda," she answered in a neutral tone.

"So, Glynda Goodwitch... you single?" I cocked an eyebrow upon responding before having to stop as she gave me a bone-chilling death glare, and as it was described, I felt chills crawl up my spine as I continued to look into those piercing green eyes. With me having little to no fear, combined with a slight tendency to be an idiot, I continued to press onward with the comments, fully aware that she might attempt to kill me should I continue.

"Come on, can you at least give me a hint before-" I stopped as I heard rustling from behind me, I looked at my radar to see four red dots on my map, "We have a situation."

She stopped as soon as she heard me speaking once more, the lady turned to look at me, her bright green eyes filled with irritation, "What is it?"

"Four hostiles behind me," I answered, watching as the woman pulled out... a riding crop? Damn, and I thought I was crazy.

"Beowolves?" she asked me, resulting in me giving her the strongest 'what-the-fuck?' look from underneath the helmet.

"The fuck's a Beowolf? Those dog bastards that jumped me when I ended up here? If so, then I'll have to guess yes," I answered to the best of my abilities, she scowled slightly at the use of my vulgarity. But thanks to Luck's endless bitchery, four 'Beowolves' (whatever the hell they're supposed to be called) emerged from the behind the trees.

With my hand gone, I had to resort to using my pistol. I raised my sidearm and quickly fired four shots at each of them, two of them made their marks as they tore their way through two eyeballs from two separate monsters, crumpling to the forest floor with a soft thud. The other two charged straight towards me.

I jumped back to dodge an oncoming swipe from the creature and parrying another slash with my arm before mustering all the strength in my right arm and sending my fist crashing into that motherfucker's throat. The wolf-monster caught it's throat with it's claw as it attempted to breath once more, but was finished off with another punch to the windpipe, crushing it's ability to breath, the creature fell backwards and started to writhe on the floor before finally laying still.

Another one of those 'Beowolves' continued to speed towards me. I holstered my pistol and pulled my fist back, preparing to one-punch the shit outta this dog-monster with a blow that only the great Bruce Lee could've performed with ease. I had to wait for the right moment to strike.

The Beowolf continued to close the gap at an alarming pace, but I was still waiting...

It was only a few meters away... almost there...

And... NOW!

At least, I could've ended it's life, if it wasn't suddenly lifted high in the air by some unknown force before being slammed into a tree. Unfortunately for both the tree and the monster, there happened to be a wicked sharp tree branch from where the beast was thrown, impaling the Beowolf on the branch and killing it instantly. Why did I feel bad for the tree? Cause it would then feel the shame of having an ugly-ass Christmas decoration staining it's branches for the next few seconds.

For the next few seconds, I brain-farted at the sight, trying to piece together what had just happened. I heard a slight whoosh and turned to see Glynda holding her riding crop outward, the stick holding a strange violet hue.

She used magic... this place had magic! MAGIC! Fuckin' Harry Potter-style wand-shooting, law-defying magic! That's awesome!

"You have to teach me how to do that," I remarked, but received an eye roll and watched as she continued to walk away, to which I responded by walking a little faster to catch up with her.

I continued to watch as she pulled out a small white rectangular and opened it up, pulling both ends to turn it into a transparent phone-like device from one of her pockets, typed in a number and held the device up to her ear, waiting for the person on the other side of the line to pick up. A few seconds passed and she finally spoke.

"Ozpin, I found the anomaly... yes, but not something, some _one_... anything specific? No? Alright then, thank you," she pressed the button at the bottom of the screen and put it away.

"Well then, Glynda, who's this mystery person you were talking to?" I asked out of the blue.

"The one who sent me to retrieve you," Glynda said as she bent over to pick up a large rock and inspect it, tossing it into the air before catching it with one final confirmation, "Beacon Academy's just north of here."

"Alright-y then, blondie, lead the wa-" I was cut off midway was I felt a sudden force slam into my face, throwing me onto the ground. I rolled over as my helmet took some of the impact, looking up to see the rock in Glynda's hand, still poised to bludgeon my head once more.

"The Headmaster told me to bring you back to the Academy, but he never specified in what condition," she glared at me, while glared back at her underneath my helmet.

"Oh, you backstabbing little cockbi-" my sentence was cut off again as she finally slammed the rock down on my head once more, my vision cutting to black as I soon fainted.

 **-oOo-**

I woke up in a small, dark room which was lit only by a single light bulb. I knew where I was: the average interrogation room. I looked down to see that I was sitting in a metal folding chair.

If I was right, they most likely handcuffed my wrists behind the chair. In response, I moved my wrist only to feel that it was restrained by my other wrist.

Yeah, I was right. And if I was right again, they probably took my weapons and moved them to a special location.

I turned my head to get a better look of my surroundings. These were the only things that I found out: I was handcuffed in a chair, a table was in front of me, and in front of that was an open door. Well, these people are most certainly idiots if they just leave the door open for me to get out of here. If I get out of these cuffs, I can leave this place, retrieve my weapons, and get the Hell out of here.

Well then, I think it's about time I take my lea-

"Not so fast," I heard a voice beside me, goddammit. I turned to see the woman I met from the forest... what was her name? Fuck, all that I could remember was walking through the forest, killing those creatures alongside her, then I was knocked over the head with a rock by... oh, fuck me.

Goodwitch, her name was Glynda Goodwitch.

"You are to have a talk with the Headmaster in a little bit," she explained. I shook my head as I felt the bruise on my forehead pressing against my helmet.

"Agh... you bitch, why the fuck did you do tha-"

 ***SMACK!***

I felt my head shift hard to the side as I felt a hard smack as pain flooded the left side of my face. I blinked away the blurs in my vision to see the not-so-Goodwitch holding her riding crop in one of her hands.

"Ow," I only said.

"You talk too much," she glared at me with a cold look in her eye.

"Well, fuck you too."

 ***SMACK*** went the other side of my face.

I shook my head to try and get rid of the pain, but it only worked slightly.

"Still feel like talking?" Glynda said. I swore that I saw a hidden smirk underneath that irritated expression of hers.

"It only tickles underneath this helmet... come on, hit me again! ...Hehehehahaha!" I spat before turning my head to look behind her, that was when I then broke out in sick laughter.

She raised the riding crop once more to strike at me.

"That's enough, Glynda!" I heard a voice come from behind the woman. I watched as she turned to see a man walking towards the two of them. This man wore shaded glasses and a green scarf, as well as a a black suit, vest and pants, with a green undershirt under his vest; and resting in his hand was a silver cane.

He continued to walk towards the two of us before stopping beside Glynda and in front of me from across the table.

After a long minute of silence, consisting of a staredown between me, this new guy, and Glynda, he finally spoke, "Ahem, my name is Professor Ozpin."

"Huh... okay," I said, the woman beside him merely scoffed at my ignorance.

"Do you know why my assistant has brought you here?" the man, this... Professor Ozpin, asked.

"To beat me into a pulp with that large rock of hers once more?" I guessed, turning to look at the woman through my helmet. I lowered my head slightly to make it appear as though I was glaring at her from behind my helmet when I was actually grinning quite evilly underneath.

 _'She ruins my day, I ruin hers. Zeta, Omicron, activate,'_ I thought, feeling the tingle of the two waking up within both the suit and my mind.

 _ **"We're up and fully operational. Eddy, are you alright? There seems to be three injuries: two abrasions on the left and right sides of your face as well as a bruise on your forehead. Permission to apply SIDDS-3?"**_ the AI asked.

 _'Granted. While your currently working on that; Zeta?'_ I mentally responded before feeling a slight sting in the back of my neck before a short cold feeling began to spread to all three injuries before going numb.

 _ **"Yeah, Eddy?"**_

 _'Think you can find out more about this place that I'm in?'_

 ** _"You don't even have to ask... ooh, there actually is a sort of Internet connection here... it's called the Cross-Continental Transmit System. Although it's much different than ours on Earth, I may be able to adapt to it. If I manage to work my way around it, mind if I take a look into the more... classified files, if such things are there?"_**

 _'That would be perfect. Thank you, Zeta.'_

 ** _"You are most certainly welcome, I'll be back in a bit."_**

"My apologies, please forgive Glynda, she tends to go a little... overboard with situations such as these," he explained, I looked up to see Glynda glaring at the man before turning to look at me.

I shrugged in response, "No biggie, I actually think your 'assistant' here makes a good dominatrix."

The temperature of the room that I was in dropped several degrees as Glynda's eye began to twitch, "Excuse me?"

"Oh boy," Ozpin muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose while the woman's hands tightened further around her riding crop until her knuckles turned white.

"Well, not a _'go_ _od'_ good one, but you're pretty decent. If you wore a bit more black leather and used a whip, preferably with spiked strands at the end, instead of that rookie riding crop of yours, you might be a little more better at your job," my grin widened even further, watching as she stormed up to me and raised her riding crop to hit me again.

"Hit me and you're only proving my point," I said in response to her actions, stopping her in the mid-swing. She glared furiously at me, trying to consider her options before **finally** taking the high road, lowering her weapon and walking back to the man with a short huff.

Oh man, I loved being me.

Professor Ozpin continued to keep a straight face as he stared at me, "Are you two finished?"

"Yup/Of course, sir," we both said.

The man sighed at us and took off his glasses, setting them off to the side, revealing a pair of brown eyes.

"Now that you know about us, perhaps you may tell us a little bit about yourself."

I shifted my head back and forth as I considered it, "Alright then. My name is Eddy Winslow; born on the 5th of March, 1999 in the city of Salem, Massachusetts; former Staff Sergeant of the IAMC and... former mercenary of the Silverwyn Institution."

Ozpin frowned slightly as he turned to face Glynda, who shrugged her shoulders lightly in response before they turned to face me again, "Do you know where you are, Mister Winslow?"

"Your friend over here mentioned something about 'Beacon Academy', and since you're a professor, I'm guessing that you just so happen to work there," I concluded, receiving a nod in response.

"Correct. I am the Headmaster of Beacon, an Academy meant for teaching those that wish to fight the Creatures of Grimm," he explained, while Glynda pulled out a larger version of that clear phone she had.

"The what-now?" I cocked my head to the side in confusion, while the other two gave me a confused look as well.

"The Creatures of Grimm. Monsters that seek to destroy humanity, they come in many different forms: Ursai, King Taijitus, Goliaths, Beowolves, Nevermores-"

"Wait, hold on, go back a little," I said, noticing a word that the Headmaster had said.

"Nevermores?"

"No, one more."

"Beowolves?" Ozpin asked.

"Yeah, not-so-Goodwitch here said that word when we were in the woods. Let me guess: black beasts with white mask-looking faces?"

"Yes, you just summed up almost every Grimm that goes by that description. And from what Professor Goodwitch has told me, you successfully fended off a pack of Beowolves, a pair of Ursai, and actually managed to save Glynda's life," both the Headmaster and I turned to face the blonde-haired woman, who still held an irritated look.

"Well then, I guess you owe me one," I smirked underneath my helmet.

"Not in a million years," she responded before turning to face Ozpin, shaking her head at him.

"No?"

"No, he doesn't exist. Neither does this... Salem Massachusetts," she answered.

"Quite intriguing," the man hummed in thought.

"You two talking about me?" I asked, a little irritated by the secrecy, the cryptic responses, and the fact that they were talking about me.

"Actually, yes. Your name does not appear on any records, it's as though you have never existed. As well as your birthplace, Salem Massachusetts, there is no mention of it anywhere. Would you care to explain why you don't appear anywhere on the Web?" he asked.

Oh shit, come on! Think of something that would bullshit my way out of this, "Would you believe me if I told you that I am from another universe, and I happen to be a guy who died there and suddenly ended up in this place because some god was bored?"

 _'Fuck!'_ I screamed internally, though was still holding onto my best poker face.

"Well, it would explain why you suddenly ended up on the Emerald Forest's map, and the weapons that you possess are unlike the make and models of traditional Atlestian weaponry, or any other weapons for that matter, and that would explain your ignorance of the Creatures of Grimm," the Headmaster pointed out.

"Uh huh," I nodded.

"But I still find it suspicious that your supposed world has the same calendar as ours; for example, you said the fifth of March. Another thing that is quite odd is that you just so happen to speak our language, whereas if a person from another world were to end up on our planet, Remnant, I would expect that they speak another language."

Alright, those were good points as well.

"Okay, you got me. I was lying the whole time, just assume that I'm another average Joe with a suit that can enhance the abilities of the wearer," I replied sarcastically.

"I've seen many odd and peculiar things, Mister Winslow, but a man from another world transcends the very concept of far-fetched. However, due to the fact that you don't exist on any media on the CCTS, I will just pretend to go along with the fact that you are of another world and make an identity for you myself. Does that sound fair?" he asked.

"Sounds reasonable. Now, let's get to the important tidbits at hand, shall we?"

"Excellent idea, anyways," Ozpin said, "Your ability to fight against the creatures of Grimm is a necessity like every other student of my Academy. Which is why I am offering you a choice."

This got my interest , "Go on."

"I believe that with your ability to fight against the Grimm, with enough training you would make an excellent student. I am asking if you would like to enroll into Beacon Academy and become a Huntsman. Should you say no, I would have no problem. Here lies your choice, yes or no?"

"Professor Ozpin!" Glynda yelled in protest.

"He is capable of fighting off the Grimm with ease, as you have told me, so I see no reason why he shouldn't attend," Ozpin explained.

Alright, now he had my full attention. Either become a kickass 'Huntsman' and fight against those freakish crimes against nature, or leave and continue with my life, and furthermore, my job, despite the fact that I'm probably the only member of the Institution on this world.

"Alright, I accept," the Professor nodded and clapped his hands together in affirmation.

"Splendid, Mister Winslow. Now, I must ask for one last thing," he said.

"Okay, shoot," I responded.

"May you please remove your helmet? I would at least like to see the face of a future student before he attends. Would you please remove the cuffs, Glynda?"

I watched as Glynda hesitated and walked over to me, "No, no, it's fine. See?"

The professors watched as I pulled my arms away from the chair and set them on the table, with the handcuffs hanging limply from my right hand, "Done."

"How did you-?" Goodwitch tried to say before I interrupted her.

"Get out? Well my dear, handcuffs are usually meant for people who possess a minimum of two hands. Anything less and it would be easy for the stump's wrist to slip through the brace and allowing me complete freedom for the other hand. If you had remembered that I am an amputee, then it would've been easier to just cuff me to the chair and insert screws into the chair's legs so I wouldn't go anywhere," I answered, watching as Glynda's face began to turn red in anger before looking down in guilt for forgetting that I had lost my hand.

Eddy-1. Glynda-0.

"Though in your defense, I would've found a way to break out of that too, but it may have temporarily cost me my thumb," I finished before turning to Ozpin, who was still looking at me.

"What're you looking a- oh yeah," I pressed a button on the back of my helmet and listened as a hissing noise emitted from it. I felt the helmet loosen up before pulling it off with my right hand and balancing it with the left stump. I set the helmet down lightly on the table and looked back at Ozpin, who held a look of surprise on his face, I looked up to see Glynda with a look of utter shock on her face.

"What is it? Is there something on my face?" I asked, noticing that my voice was a little high-pitched. I then focused back on Ozpin to see that he shook his head in disappointment.

"My apologies, Mister Winslow, but I must revoke your enrollment at Beacon. It appears that you are far too young to attend," the Headmaster said, picking up his glasses and putting them back on.

"Really? I'm twenty-eight years old. That's too young for you?" my response caused Ozpin to chuckle before turning to look at Glynda.

"Professor Goodwitch, I think you hit him a little too hard on the head, wouldn't you say?"

"As much as it pains me, I had hoped that this _boy_ was telling the truth about his age," she turned and stormed off, muttering things like 'this is so humiliating' or 'I'm such an idiot' before returning seconds later after venting out her frustrations in private.

While they had been talking, I took the time to pick up my helmet and stared into my reflection.

There were a few key things that stayed the same, such as my pale skin for one, blue eyes, blond hair, the small quantity of scars that covered my face, and that sexy thing I called a face; there were a few differences as well: such as the fact that my hair was longer and almost fell past my ears, while I usually kept my hair within a military-style buzz cut, and the fact that I LOOKED YOUNGER THAN I ORIGINALLY DID!

Jesus H. Christ, I was a kid again! Like I was just starting puberty or something.

 _'Omicron?'_ I asked the AI.

 ** _"Yes Eddy?"_**

 _'Run a scan on me and pinpoint my current biological age,'_ I ordered.

 ** _"Done... you are approximately thirteen years old,"_** the AI responded, causing my heart to skip a beat in panic.

 _'Please scan yourself and tell me there are any bugs or errors in your programming, then calculate my age again,'_ I commanded once more, hoping that there was something wrong with the Computer Program.

 _ **"Already on it... none, you are still calculated at almost exactly thirteen years old,"**_ the AI repeated his scan. I felt a twinge of panic and anger at the news.

After testing my body to it's limits all those years... all the training that I had put myself through in the past... all flushed down the metaphorical toilet.

The Voice had said he would extend my life span, but this isn't what I had in mind!

"Are you okay, Mister Winslow? Eddy? Are you alright?" Ozpin waved his hand in front of my face, to which I slapping his hand away out of instinct.

"Yeah, I'm fine. So... what's going to happen to me now?" I asked.

"Well, since you were capable of fending off the Grimm on your own... I believe an early enrollment in Signal Academy would be a good idea," Ozpin suggested, "It is a school for younger people who want to become Huntsmen and Huntresses, having to graduate from that school before moving onto Beacon."

"Ahem," Ozpin looked up to see Glynda, who was looking down at him with a concerned expression, "I would like to provide an alternative option."

I looked up at her as well. Now what did she have in mind here?

"All right, let's hear it," the Headmaster nodded his head.

"Alone," the blonde-haired woman said, turning to look at me.

Ozpin hesitated for a second before facing me once more, "There's another room up ahead, just wait there until we are through talking."

I got up from my seat and headed for the door, waving behind him with a two-fingered salute, "See ya in a little bit."

The last few words I heard when I left the room were, "Alright then, Glynda. I would like to hear this alternative option."

Then the last word that I heard piqued my interest, but I would have find out more about it later.

"Caesar," she said.

 **-oOo-**

"Caesar," Glynda responded. As expected, Ozpin scowled at the woman for using that word.

"Might I remind you how the project involving Subject 'Caesar' ended?" he scolded Goodwitch, who nodded in response.

She sighed at the reminder of the failure of 'Caesar', "Yes... I know, but I believe that this Eddy Winslow is different, despite his... unique personality."

Ozpin narrowed his eyes in concern, pressing his fingertips against one another as he continued to look up at her, leaning further into his seat.

"Tell me, Glynda, what do you think of Mister Winslow?" he asked her, to which she immediately responded.

"He's arrogant, sarcastic, sardonic, contains a slight sense of cynicism, borderline-narcissistic, glib, callous, juvenile, facetious, and... most likely promiscuous," she listed off the boy's flaws.

"Just like Caesar," he pointed out, causing the woman who stood in front of him to groan in frustration.

"Please bear with me; he's also talented, being able to fight off a pair of Ursai despite losing a hand in the process. When I relieved him of his weapons, I noticed that they were completely clean, and given that he was quite experienced with it, it suggests that he values professionalism. Despite his... many flaws, you yourself had said that he was a capable fighter. So if he is an experienced fighter now, imagine how he'll be when he grows older. He may best some of the more stronger creatures of Grimm," she countered the man's rebuttal.

"Exactly, a boy with that kind of power, combined with his personality and current experience would make him a dangerous tool, one that could be swayed by the enemy into fighting against us. His fate would be too unpredictable, a loose cannon, to be precise."

"One that would undoubtedly prove useful if he were properly guided," Glynda said.

Ozpin looked at the woman with a hardened look, "What you're asking for is a risk."

"Call it a game of chance."

"A gamble," Ozpin responded.

"With high stakes."

"And equally high risks. One false move and we'll lose those stakes, permanently. Are you really sure that you would want this to happen, despite what might come to be if you fail?" he asked, still concerned as to why Glynda Goodwitch of all people would want this person, one that she has a very... negative outlook on, to be trusted with an abandoned project... no, a _formerly_ abandoned project that would require a deep amount of trust.

"Sometimes, you have to operate on faith," she said.

"That seems unwise, Glynda, even for you," Ozpin sighed, "Nonetheless... I'll accept these terms, but there will be a few conditions with this little experiment of ours."

"And what might these terms be?" Goodwitch raised an eyebrow.

 **-oOo-**

I found myself sitting on a chair, reading through a magazine, my helmet resting under my elbow. The room I was currently in looked a little like one of those places where you enter a hospital and have to sit down and wait until the doctor calls for you, what were they called? Eh, I'm sure it'll come to me.

The magazine was a weapons magazine appropriately called 'Weapons'. As I continued to sift through each page, I started to notice a pattern within each page that was turned: the word 'Dust' and the fact that every weapon in there has at least a second transformation or more.

From what I could tell, 'Dust' seemed to be either some sort of source of energy, or even a propellant and substitute for gunpowder, as I read that some power-based weapons, such as the explosive hammer, required Dust to be used more effectively, while the ammunition can also be made up of different variants of Dust.

As for the 'every-melee-weapon-in-this-magazine-is-also-a-gun' dilemma, it seemed pretty pointless. If you lose a weapon such as that in the midst of battle, you lose both variants, it's ballistic form and it's melee form. Losing one meant losing both, putting you at risk in the heat of the fight; and unless you knew how to fight bare-knuckled effectively, you were royally fucked without your weapons.

Another thing that I found out was that Dust can create an explosion when fired from a gun similarly to using gunpowder, but from a logical hypothesis, this 'Dust' was actually a much quieter alternative. Why? Well,when I read these types of magazines before I joined the military, there were usually coupons for earplugs to use when using a gun, because those things were eardrum-rupturing loud when fired. I read several more magazines and didn't even find a single torn-out bit of paper suggesting that a coupon used to be there.

Eventually, I got bored of looking at all the different tools used to kill both man and monster and pulled out a deck of cards, Solitaire seemed like good idea. I reached over to open them before realizing I only had one hand. Sighing in frustration, I put the deck of cards away and pulled out a small flask from one of the pockets that were strapped to my suit. I raised the flask and took a sip, feeling the burning sensation of whiskey flow down my throat.

"Do you think it's wise to be drinking at such an age?" I turned to see Ozpin leaning on the door frame. I didn't want to be reminded of the age-old issue (no pun intended) that I was currently facing.

"Hah! You kidding me? My mother used to let me drink when I was ten, what're you talking about?" I said before taking another swig to prove my point.

"Well then, I have come to deliver you some news about your current predicament," he said, standing a few feet in front of me.

"Alright then, let's hear it," I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for what this silver-haired professor had to say.

"You are not going to be attending Signal Academy. Instead, due to your obvious talent, you will be trained privately by a personal tutor. This person will teach you everything he knows on fighting the Grimm."

"And what makes this so different about the schools?" I asked, still not getting the point of what Ozpin was saying.

"Quality over quantity. While the other professors have to focus on teaching a large amount of students, an individual tutor will teach you. Dealing with a single student will provide a larger variety of knowledge as well as more opportunities for the student himself. In summary: in a matter of two to four years, you would be on par with an average Huntsman by the time this tutor has finished your education," he explained in a more detailed manner.

"And how long would it take for a student of... my age to become a full Huntsmen?" I asked once more.

"The average student spends three years learning in Signal, before having to spend the next four years on a team in Beacon," Ozpin answered, as soon as he said that, Professor Goodwitch walked in at that moment to see what was going on.

And what did he say? Two to four years in my case? Well hot damn! That seemed like some quality education right there. This seemed too good to pass up.

"And who would be my tutor?"

"Funny you would ask. Although Glynda was the one who suggested your alternative, I nominated myself to be your tutor," he said, motioning to her with his head. I turned to look at her, but she glared at me with a look I knew all too well, the 'you-better-be-worth-all-this-trouble-' look.

I frowned an looked at him, "You don't really look much like a fighter to me."

He scoffed lightly at my response, "I can assure, looks can be deceiving."

"I would know, just like Goodwitch over there, right?"

"Don't push it," she growled, her hand reaching for her riding crop.

"Okay okay, jeez. Okay Ozpin, I'll accept this. But I ask for one thing and one thing only," I said with a serious look on my face.

"And what might that be?" Ozpin asked.

I responded by pulling out a small hand-sized pouch, and inside of it was, you guessed it, my other hand. I used my teeth and my right hand to pry open the bag and empty the contents on a nearby table.

I turned to see that Glynda looked sickened as she realized what I was doing, expected to hear the soft thump of flesh hitting the wood of the table. But instead, she heard a rather loud clang. She looked to see that the hand that had landed on the table was not a hand made of flesh and bone, but of metal and wires. The prosthetic hand itself looked sleek and very futuristic, a light grey in color, The wrist held fragments of twisted and torn metal.

"I need a new hand. This one was a little rusty, and I hope you can do better with making a replacement. Sounds fair?" I asked, watching as the man smiled lightly in response.

"Of course, I wouldn't want my new pupil to have an impairment stopping him, now would we?" he asked in response, holding out his hand.

Pupil? Ugh, I hope this doesn't become a regular thing...

Nevertheless, I shook the Headmaster's hand, unknown of what was in store for me in the future.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: And that wraps up the second chapter of RWBY: The Gunman. What will be in store for our new anti-hero, Eddy? Who knows, you'll just have to find out and see in the next chapter.**

 **Also, why did I write this fic in this way? Well, almost every OC story I read has the character immediately thrown into Beacon, while this protagonist has a more... accelerated program to act as stepping stones on his way to becoming part of the canon story (and before you guys point out what I said, yes I did that on one of my previous fics and yes, I'm fully aware of what I just said contradicting what have done. Sue me, I'm a hypocrite) .**

 **Let me know what you guys think about this story.**

 **And as always, stay beautiful, ladies and gents.**


	3. Chapter 3: Through The Years

**Q &A & Responses: **

**welcometodalolz:** **Thank you very much, I appreciate it.**

 **Acerman:** **Yup, this is providing a bit of a backstory for some of the characters. But there are a few things that I have to point out so you guys don't get confused:**

 **1\. Eddy is not a cyborg, but he is... augmented. The only things that are man-made is his prosthetic hand (which will someday be explained as to how he lost his original), a few (EMP-hardened) cybernetic implants in his brain, and a few synthetic organs that were lost and/or replaced voluntarily (his lungs, liver, kidneys, and heart, specifically) back when he was on Earth.**

 **2\. Speaking of Qrow, I actually came up with the idea of Eddy's personality long before Qrow was introduced. With Qrow's personality running in parallel to Eddy, it provided me with more material for this story. As for Cinder? Well, she plays an important part in this as well.**

 **3\. Are you kidding me? Ozpin's addiction to coffee has long been ingrown into his DNA before Eddy came along.**

 **thenotes146:** **Less insane? LESS INSANE!? Well then, he only seems sane at first, but his facade can only hold for so long (Muahahahahahahahahaha!)**

 **Rook435: Cool, thanks.**

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** **This chapter takes place two years after Eddy's arrival, with him summing up his progression through said year, explaining all his new knowledge, skills, and experience before diving into the action, fighting against our favorite Headmaster's Assistant, as well as making a new friend in Signal.**

 **Now, onward to the next chapter! Ad Victoriam! For the Brotherho- I mean... let's just go onto the next chapter...**

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY, just my OC.**

* * *

 **-Chapter 3: Through The Years-**

How would I describe my first two years in Remnant?

 _"Ow! Dammit!"_

 _"Again."_

 _"Argh, fucking bullshit!"_

 _"Again."_

 _"Fuck you, Ozpimp!"_

To be honest, I can't even put into a few simple words. I still couldn't believe that I had woken up in a forest after being literally dead, just to fight off a group of monsters, and meet a bunch of people trained to kill said monsters and end up joining them just soon after, all in the matter of several hours upon my arrival here.

To form a rather brief summary: I had to relearn everything I had known on Earth and force myself to assimilate into the cultures and past history of Remnant.

I'm not going to say that my first few weeks were totally badass, cuz it wasn't. I wasn't allowed to practice with my new... tutor, Ozpin (Jesus Christ, I hate that word, "tutor, why couldn't he just use the word "instructor"? It seems more formal), or partake in any sort of fights until I received my new hand.

So what did I have to do for the six months before I could get my new custom-made prosthetic limb? Bookwork.

Motherfucking bookwork. The kind of things you do at a school. What did he think I was, a kid? Oh yeah...

Nevertheless, despite how boring it was, it gave me a chance to at least know more about what I would have to work with in the future. Case in point: Dust, this peculiar little substance was, in fact, renewable, appearing in new locations every day out of nowhere, sometimes above ground, where it was easier to obtain (though this was rare), while others were far below where it had to be mined. The mining of Dust led to several companies manufacturing and selling it in different forms, though one particular company was currently in the lead as a near-monopoly, and it was getting bigger with every passing day.

Sheesh, talk about Remnant not having an Antitrust Law.

A few other things were the Kingdoms: Vale, where I was currently residing in, a rather average place that seemed the most normal in terms of civilization, from my point of view at least; Vacuo, which has been described as a desert and savanna- based environment, forcing the people there to adapt to the harsh conditions; Mistral, a sort of sister equivalent of Vale, while holding some influences from the other Kingdoms as well in terms of culture; and finally, Atlas, which currently holds the most powerful military force, theoretically stronger than the rest of the four Kingdoms' armies put together.

That last Kingdom reminded me of a country on my world as well... what was it called? Oh yeah, the good ol' USA before it became the IIA, though there seemed to be a middle ground between the two as Atlas was currently ruled under what seemed to be an egalitarian dictatorship, as well as a Council involved with the rest of the four Kingdoms.

The reasons as to why every melee weapon was a gun was still confusing to me as well, even after a rather detailed explanation from Goodwitch. I just didn't see the point in having a single device that shifts between one or more weapons. If anything, carrying multiple weapons, or at least being efficient in using your fists should you lose your weapons seem like adequate ideas. And besides, would you even pay attention to a single thing that beautiful, yet cold-hearted, woman said? ...Shut up, that was a rhetorical question and I know we're thinking the same things.

Next was the subspecies that lived on this world, called "Faunus". They were mostly human, the same emotions, same way of walking, talking, eating, all the same things that a normal human being would do. But they had a difference that seemed much less than subtle: the animal traits that they always possessed. I was surprised by the fact that there was another classification of humanity: _Homo Corocottus_ , as I liked to call them in a Latin classification (if Latin or any other Latin-based languages actually existed here as well). These animal traits usually came in the form of ears, tails, or unnatural pupil shape; but in some 'once-in-a-Blue-Moon' instances, some Faunus possessed both a pair of bestial ears and a tail.

One other thing was that these people actually had night vision ingrained as part of their biology, as well as some possessing a set of claws or any other form of offensive weapons that occurred to them naturally. Later on, I realized that there was prejudice between them and the humans.

With humanity being the majority of the world's population, it was no surprise that the Faunus would be the ones getting mistreated. As for my opinion on their rights, I cared about the Faunus just as much as I cared about humanity, what did that mean? I didn't care at all, I'm not from this world, so I see no reason to get involved in things such as this. Ozpin offered to teach me about killing the Grimm, not dealing with a bunch of socio-political rambling, I already had enough of that back when I was alive on Earth.

Back on Earth, heheh... it's been a while since I thought about that. While life was good here on Remnant, Vale, I still kinda missed Earth, the family, the simplicity in my old job as a soldier-for-hire, those assholes that I called my best friends (they were awesome, by the way). But I knew I could never go back, I was dead there and given life here, so I just had to adapt to the situation, as I always did.

One other subject was something called Semblances, and HOOOLLYY shit was I in for a surprise. In the world of Remnant, there is actual living proof of the Soul, which was manifested into something called 'Aura', which acted, for a majority, as a shield (though there have been some instances where it can be used for offensive purposes).

As for Semblances, these manifested after a person's Aura is unlocked, though the problem is when it manifests, not how; for most people, it can take a matter of either days for a particular person's Semblance to manifest, but for others (and this was a VERY small percentage), it can take months, or even years for their's to come up. From what I can tell, Semblances come in different varieties: speed, more power to a person's hits, doppelgangers, controlling a specific set of substances, telekinesis, and (the most rare) teleportation were just only a few of the many things that a Semblace can take form in.

Lastly was the Creatures of Grimm. From what I heard the Grimm were these things are made up of pure darkness... it honestly sounds like something out of a Square Enix video game.

Turns out these fuckers didn't just take the forms of wannabe wolves and Yogi Bear if you managed to stuff him into a toaster and set the timer to "Nine Circles of Hell"; no, they also came in flavors, or as I like to call them, 'Baskins', because they're all thirty-one flavors of fucked up: Deathstalkers, giant-ass scorpions that would make radscorpions from the Fallout games piss themselves in terror; Nevermores, the thing that Edgar Allen Poe imagined as what a raven on steroids would look like; Goliaths, elephants, cause why the fuck not? King Taijitus, AKA that one snake from Harry Potter if it had a second head where it's asshole should've been; Boarbatusks, Pumba's ugly cousin from the seventh circle of Hell; and lastly a few other Creatures of Grimm that took the forms of spiders (Widows, also known as NOPES!), Krakens (octopus Grimm, I feel sorry for every Huntress that died at the hands of these for... well, explicit reasons), bugs, various large jungle cats, rats, piranhas, bulls, etc., ad nauseam.

Now it seems boring, but it teaches me an important lesson every day...

...

...

... Give me a second, I'm trying to find that lesson... nope, haven't found it yet, it just gives more information on what to kill and where to find it.

Nevertheless, now that bookwork has been accounted for, now onto the things that you've all been waiting for: Official training, where I get my ass kicked by everyone that wanted to fight me.

 **-oOo-**

 **Day One of Official training...**

I looked down at my new hand, testing the fingers that made up my new synthetic limb. I heard each gear and cog within the machine click softly as I flexed each finger. I curled the hand into a fist and sent it straight into a nearby wall, creating a small fist-sized hole in the wall, with small, noticeable cracks forming around it.

The feeling with this hand was, surprisingly, a new feature. I was now able to identify things by tough with this hand with pain being removed from the equation, that seemed like a large benefit in my opinion.

 _ **"Well, everything seems to be in working order,"**_ Omicron observed from within my head.

I ran my other hand over my head, content with the fact that I decided to keep my hair in a buzz-cut military fashion.

With a nod in satisfaction, I confirmed that it was ready to be tested. I grabbed a leather glove nearby and slipped it onto my new hand before flexing it once more. I stood up from the bench that I was sitting on in the locker room and stretched underneath my grey nanosuit, listening to every bone that popped and set back into place.

My nanosuit(AKA the State of the Art patched and software updated model 2S Carbon Nano-Skin V3.0125) had now taken the form of a simple set of apparel, consisting of a grey shirt, pants, shoes, and gloves; as well as a set of shades made by the suit's helmet that also brought up the Head's-Up Display, due to the suit being able to change it's material form upon completely scanning a prepared set of clothing, as well as several systems that seemed to be centuries ahead of my time. Also, yeah... the Silverwyn Institution could never get passed the color-bug when they made the suit, so it had to permanently stick to a default grey color scheme.

"You do realize that was school property you just damaged," I heard a voice behind me say in a stern tone.

I turned to see that it was Professor Ozpin, or as I like to call him, Ozpimp (after looking through the schools records of students to find out that there were slightly more female students than male, so I just couldn't resist! What makes it even better is that he dresses fancily, wears dark spectacles, and always walks around with that fancy-looking cane of his!), with a mug of what appeared to be coffee in his hand. This guy had a serious addiction to that stuff, more so than my addiction to anything harmful within arm's reach: cigarettes, booze, my masochistic tendencies when it comes to Professor Goodwitch... wait what?

"Yeah, and your point is, Ozpimp?" I asked, watching as he sighed from the nickname I used for him.

"Just come with me," he grumbled, turning around and walking away, with me quickly catching up to him.

We were currently in Signal Academy. Due to my now-young age, I was able to pass as a student rather easily. He continued to lead me towards a large circular room. The entire room was colored a deep azure and was slightly dim, a large circle of seats seemed to surround a large, empty radius; not unlike a fighting arena. This must be the Sparring room.

"So, what're we here for?" I asked the Professor out of curiosity.

"We are here to officially train, with you as my student and I as your teacher," he explained, walking to the center of the stage before stopping.

I grinned mischievously, popping the bones in my right hand and flexing the new mechanisms in my left, "Alright-y then Ozpimp, let's get this show on the road."

My smile faltered as Ozpin shook his head, "You will not be fighting me."

"What do you mean? You said this is where we're going to train now, right?"

He nodded, "Yes, Eddy, but I never said I was going to _fight_ you... not yet. I will merely set you against another opponent and judge you based on both you and your opponent's conditions."

Alright, that seemed good enough, "Okay, I'll bite. Who's my first victim?" I asked, my eyes flashing in excitement, eager to fight against whoever Ozpin chose to be my opponent.

"That would be me," I heard another voice say behind me. I froze at the voice and slowly turn around at the sound of this newcomer, knowing exactly who this person was.

I slowly turned to face Goodwitch, who had just now entered the room. In her hand was that familiar riding crop that she had used with her Semblance (sad, it actually wasn't magic, but it was cool nonetheless), and on her face was an almost amused, borderline sadistic smirk, though it was hidden under a very professional demeanor, but that didn't mean I couldn't see it.

"Woah, woah, wait a minute! You said you were my instructor! You never said I had to fight her!" I protested, motioning to the blonde-haired woman.

Ozpin only raised an eyebrow at my response, taking a sip from his mug, "I said that I would be your tutor, I never said that I would spar with you... at least not yet. I simply decided who would fight against you for your first match, and I hope that Professor Goodwitch was not exaggerating on the subject of your abilities, otherwise we would have a problem. So, are there any issues with me choosing Goodwitch as your first opponent?"

My hands balled up into fists in irritation, but they loosened up after a brief amount of time, "No, there's not. Just that I was not expecting... this."

Glynda shot me an annoyed glare before Ozpin responded, "Good, now then, I shall take my leave."

I felt my blood almost literally freeze at that last part in panic.

"Wait, you're just leaving?!" I yelled, watching as the smile on Glynda's face become more visible.

"If you manage to drop Professor Goodwitch's Aura level to at least fifty percent, then I will deem you as fit for sparring with me," he explained, continuing to walk out of the room.

"Oh, come on! You're going to leave me all alone here with the Teacher Version of Kathleen Zuelch on her period?!" the door shut behind the silver-haired man, indeed leaving me with the blonde-haired professor.

"Well... shit. Okay then," I brought my hands in an offensive stance, ready to defend myself from this possibly psychotic teacher, "This'll be a _very_ short match."

Glynda only looked at me, her wicked smile fully visible on her face as she raised her riding crop at me. That grin almost made me regret everything I just said about her.

"The feeling is mutual," she only said, waiting for me to make the first move, "You're not going to draw your weapon?"

I looked to my left, then to my right in mock confusion before raising my hands up slightly, "You're looking at 'im!"

"Oh really? Well then... this will be fun," Glynda smirked.

To put it bluntly, my weapons do not function with Dust properly and I was currently VERY low on ammunition consisting gunpowder. So if I wanted a new weapon, I'll have to build one; in the meantime, I had to fight using the suit and whatever training I had left in this younger body.

We continued to stare at one another from the opposite ends of the room, waiting for one of us to make the first move. It first consisted of seconds, before turning to a small quantity of minutes, before finally reaching half an hour.

With neither of us making the first move, I charged at the woman with a stupidly cocky battle cry, my hands curled tightly into fists as I began to close the distance between the two of us.

 _'Zeta, Omicron, activate the KIT gauge,'_ I mentally ordered to the two AIs that were currently living inside my head.

 _ **"On it, boss,"**_ Zeta replied.

 _ **"Preparing the Nanosuit's Kinetic Impact Threshold... now,"**_ Omicron responded as I was only a few feet away from the woman, my fist pulled back, ready to strike out my opponent.

"GET SOOOOOOO-"

 **-oOo-**

Ozpin continued to wait outside the room, sitting himself onto a nearby chair, taking sips from his mug of coffee, thinking about the situation that he had gotten himself into for the past four months.

Yes, Mister Winslow did excel quite greatly at studying and memorizing the history and cultures of Remnant, absorbing information that would normally take a child years to completely learn whereas he quickly learned all that was given to him in only half a year. He truly was a prodigy, given both his skill against the Grimm and his intellect on what he now knew.

Still, even after all this time, he still had that arrogant personality of his, acting all high and mighty, but he knew that deep down, there was something far more humble than just a former 'mercenary'. Ozpin chuckled lightly at the thought: a mercenary? That was the best excuse that kid could come up with? It seemed that he himself believed it when I explained to him that you did not get paid as a Huntsman, this was a career that was meant for dedication to protecting and serving mankind.

Eddy even refused to have his Aura unlocked, saying, and the silver man quoted, "If I didn't need it then, I certainly won't need it now."

It was only a matter of time before such a way of thinking would get him killed one day.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, staring unconsciously at the wall ahead of him while taking another sip of coffee.

"GET SOOOOOOOOOO- _oh shit..._ AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!-" he heard from the other side of the door, only to watch as Eddy burst through the doors, tearing the hinges off the doors and shattering them into splinters, the young man slid across the tiled floor and finally stopped, emitting a small groan.

"Ow! Dammit!" he screamed before getting back up.

"Are you okay?" Ozpin asked, concerned with the boy's physical condition.

"Never better, she only broke my wrist," he grinned, raising his prosthetic hand for the Headmaster to see. This caused Eddy to burst out laughing, finding his own sense of humor refreshing.

"Good, again," the Professor commanded, watching as Eddy's laughter faltered, his face dropped into a scowl as he stormed back into the room for a rematch.

It still surprised Ozpin by how much resilience Mister Winslow had. Without an Aura, he was still alive even by the amount of punishment dealt by Glynda.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" not even a second later, he was thrown back out of the room once more. With no door to slow his landing, he slid across the floor even farther and slammed into the wall twenty-metres away from the sparring room.

"Argh... fucking bullshit!" Eddy screamed in rage as he got up and dusted off any rubble that had gathered on him.

"Again, Mister Winslow," Ozpin merely said.

"Fuck you, Ozpimp!" he growled, jogging back towards the room that still held an unscathed Glynda, awaiting another match from the young man.

Ozpin guessed what would happen again.

And he was right.

 **-oOo-**

So yeah, this is how it went for another six months: picking a fight with Goodwitch almost every single day in the sparring room, only to get my ass handed to me in less than a minute. For the first few failures, it was pretty humiliating. Seriously, I was the best mercenary in the Silverwyn Institution and what happens to me? I have my face shoveled into the ground by an Academy Professor with a Dominatrix fetish.

It wasn't until I learned something about Huntsmen: it's that their weapon, without them, was useless; and without their weapon, they were useless. This piece of advice sounded eerily like a verse from the Rifleman's Creed, but it proved a point. Goodwitch's weapon was her riding crop, which allowed her to use her Semblance at an even greater height thanks to the Dust she incorporates into it.

Obviously, without her, that little stick couldn't do jack shit; as for Glynda herself, she could put up one hell of a fight even when her weapon is separated from her, but then again, the quote that I had mentioned earlier was more accurately applied to the Creatures of Grimm, meaning that without her weapon, as good as a fighter she already was, she'd still be torn apart.

So I had to do what came to mind in terms of helping me stay alive: I made a weapon, two actually. Upon their completion, I gave them a few test runs at both a shooting range for my ranged weapon and a simulation room for my melee weapon. To put it simply: flawless.

Now it would seem a bit boring to have me explain every ass-kicking that was dealt towards me when it came to fighting Glynda and attempting to kick her Aura down to half it's original level. So why not just fast-forward to the part where I actually accomplished something. After a year of me getting my ass kicked and four months making and practicing with my weapon, I actually won.

 **-oOo-**

All the students in Signal were now dismissed for the time being once more, allowing me to roam freely about the place. But today was a special day: the day I tested my new weapons against Glynda.

I strutted like I owned the entire world into the sparring room, where Glynda was waiting for me, having interrupted her in mid-work and challenge her for what I hope would be the last time.

She turned to see me and immediately drew her weapon, that same signature riding crop used to inflict more pain than lethality. Glynda pointed the weapon at me, while did the same.

With my hand held behind my back the entire time and with the other hiding underneath my grey Nanosuit jacket. I brought one of my new weapons into view, prompting the Professor to raise her eyebrow in concern at the sight.

"A cane?" she asked, puzzled by my choice in weaponry.

I shrugged me shoulders and twirled the weapon by it's handle before setting it down with a hard thump, "Hey, you have a riding crop, we all have our own preferences."

Glynda only continued to stare before nodding slowly at the rebuttal, "So be it."

The weapon in my hand was, indeed, a cane. The tough, wooden handle carved to form the head of a King Taijitu with it's mouth open, baring it's small wooden fangs in a surprisingly menacing way; the collar was a polished ivory color, the shaft of the cane was a solid, onyx black, segmented rings ran along the majority of the cane like a large, complex jigsaw puzzle. The cane itself was a weapon, therefore it bore no ferrule at the bottom.

As for why I had a cane in the first place. Well, it seemed like a pretty good idea; makes for a good blunt-striking weapon, can hook onto other people and/or creatures when held from the other end, made as a sort of respect for Ozpin as he always carried that cane around with him, and I always felt so damn fancy every time I held a cane. So why not?

Within the next few minutes, we paced around the room, the both of us each trying to come up with a strategy to best the other, as well as relying on a fallback plan in the event that it does not work.

The match would begin as soon as one of us made the first move.

 _ **"Are you sure you can do this, Eddy?"**_ Omicron asked.

 _ **"Yeah, it's been early a year and a half and you've continued to lose so many times. What makes you think you can win now?"**_ Zeta followed up with Omicron's question.

 _'You assholes are real rays of sunshine, you know that?'_

 ** _"By brightening up everyone's day every time we walk into the room?"_**

 _'No, hurting people's eyes and giving them cancer, you fuckwits,'_ I mentally responded to the two of them, sneering as I could feel the amount of negativity they had just emitted.

 _ **"Okay, we get it. Do you at least want to use the modifications you made for the suit? It can help tremendously."**_

I rolled my eyes beneath my sunglasses, _'I'm fine, I'll use them when I'm out in the actual battlefield.'_

 ** _"Suit yourself,"_** Zeta chirped before her presence disappeared once more.

With new-found confidence in both my weapons and my abilities, I immediately bum-rushed towards the blonde-haired professor, catching her off-guard. With a high leap propelled with the help of my suit, I slammed the cane down on the woman, only for her to summon a purple glyph-like shield that immediately tossed me back as it retaliated in an explosion before dissipated. I landed on the ground with a loud thud.

"You still have much to learn," Glynda responded, raising her riding crop that also happened to second as a wand.

"Jesus Christ, that's so cliche," I groaned before running towards her once more, holding my cane by it's handle in a reverse grip in similar to a tonfa stick.

The Professor proceeded to only push up her glasses further and let loose another volley of Dust at me, this time it was ice crystals that she had now thrown at me. I switched positions on the cane and held it in sword-like fashion, batting away the ice crystals and forcing them to miss and hit different locations, as well as catching one in mid-air. I flipped the crystal until it pointed in the sharpened end at Goodwitch and threw it at her like a dart with my left hand.

The crystal sailed through the air and impacted on Glynda's abdomen, causing her to double over and stumble backwards as it made contact.

Back on Earth, they would've filed me for domestic abuse had I done this there. But here? Almost everyone that I'll come across will be picking a fight with me, and I'll be expected to through a punch back at them at equal force, if not, harder. Besides, Glynda's as tough as nails on a railroad track, I expected her to put up one hell of a fight, but I never expected to actually be beaten on my first try.

With the Professor disoriented, I sprinted towards her with my weapon in hand. As soon as the minimum proximity between the two of use were met, I began to swing my cane into the left side of her waist, I only had a few seconds to take advantage of this opening, any more and she'd recover.

Before the blunt end of the cane could make it's mark, Glynda moved her hand, the one that was holding onto the riding crop, and blocked my strike with her weapon.

This is where it got to the fun part. As both Glynda and I know, I excelled more in Close-Quarters combat than she did, while she preferred to keep a distance from her enemies. This gave me the advantage.

She attempted to strike at with her crop, but I quickly grabbed ahold of it before it had a chance to hit me. With a sharp twist from my superior prosthetic hand, I wrenched Goodwitch's weapon out of her hand, dropped it, and kicked it behind me.

"Your move, Glynda," I sneered broadly, swinging my cane around in a veritcal circular motion in a boastful manner.

The blonde-haired professor only grit her teeth in annoyance, eyeing me as though she was trying to calculate my next move, in which case, she was. With her Aura finally healing her twisted wrist, she sped towards me at an inhuman speed, even despite the fact that she was wearing fucking high heels!

She brought up her leg in an attempt to kick me, only for me to grab it easily and hold firmly onto it, "Now Glynda, you should always know when to-"

I never finished my sentence, the professor used her other leg to lift the rest of her body higher, twisting herself in the air until she used her other leg to swing at me, to which I had to drop the first leg that she used to block the other oncoming strike with my cane in success.

 _ **"Clever girl,"**_ Zeta quipped, the two AIs watching as the woman continued to throw more strikes at me, with each I easily blocked, parried, and countered.

It wasn't until Glynda finally decided to throw an Aura-powered fist in my direction. With the Aura-propelled attack striking in the stomach, it sent me skidding back towards the wall. I crouched and slammed my hand into the floor to slow down before coming to a stop.

I looked back up to see the professor striding over to her riding crop and picking it up. The woman inspected it quickly before pointing it at me once more. I grinned as I began to stand back up, holding my cane by the handle and pressing it to the floor to help me stand back up.

Now that Glynda had that 'magic' wand of hers in her hand, I knew what she was going to do. With a cleverly thought out plan forming within my brain, I decided that now was the right time to act on it.

First thing that would happen is that I would blindly run towards her with my cane in hand in a 'poor' attempt to strike at her. This would usually make the professor use her Semblance and lift me up in the air and later throw me through the door, with Ozpin probably standing behind it, shaking his head in disappointment before ordering me to go back in there and fight her again.

But this wasn't _usually_ anymore, I had a plan.

As usual, Glynda did lift me high in the air and was about to toss me through the doors once more, which have been replaced over and over again for about more than a hundred times.

This time, however, there was a difference between the past fights long time ago, and the fight that I was currently in: I had weapons now. After six months of stubbornly refusing to use weapons to beat someone I thought would be easy, I decided to say 'fuck it' and spend the next few months designing, making, and practicing with my new gadgets.

As I was still twenty-feet in the air, I lifted up my cane, took aim, and threw it at her. As expected, she managed to knock it out of the way while still keeping me hovered in the air.

But as she was momentarily distracted, I pulled out my second weapon from underneath my jacket: a bulky, rectangular-shaped black pistol, the grip custom-made to fit specifically into my hand, and fired, at default, .45 rounds. It was built in a similar design to the 1911 that I usually carried, only this one was larger, given the several other modifications that could be made to it. I was surprised that I actually had the knowledge to make something like this, and I had to say, it felt pretty good.

Quickly unholstering the gun, I took aim at the distracted woman and fired up to three shots in about half a second. The bullet left the firearm with a loud bang, yet surprisingly, it was actually much quieter than I expected. Why? Because my ears weren't ringing and my head didn't feel as though it was split open like a watermelon cut in half by a hatchet, and I wasn't even wearing ear plugs.

 _'The more you know,'_ I thought to myself.

Anyways, the bullet continued to speed through the air at an alarming pace before impacting on Glynda's left shoulder, right knee, and chest. The sudden retaliation caused Glynda to suddenly drop me as she stumbled backwards from the shots.

I dropped as she let go of me and landed steadily on my feet, without hesitation, I holstered my pistol and quickly ran towards my cane as it had been tossed aside. Grabbing it, I sprinted towards her once more to deliver another blow.

As I was mere feet away from her, cane in hand, she was beginning to recover from my unexpected attack. She looked up to see the blunt instrument in mid-swing and defended herself by tossing up another violet glyph shield.

"That is enough, Mister Winslow," I heard a voice said behind me, prompting me to suddenly stop. I looked back at Glynda, the cane that was just mere centimetres away from her head, and the shield that she had created. So close...

Coming down from my adrenaline high, I lowered the cane to the ground, while Glynda dissipated the shield. I heard the owner of the voice walking behind me.

One step, two step, thump, three step, four step, thump; I knew who it was.

"Son of a bitch," I mumbled to myself as I turned to face Ozpin, his cane thumping against the ground every so often each time he took a step, "Why'd you stop us? I was in the middle of something."

"Of course, Mister Winslow. But if you took the time to pay attention to the screen, you would've noticed that the Professor's Aura level has now dropped below half it's original level," he explained, pointing his cane up at the large blue screen displaying our pictures and names; with Goodwitch's Aura at less than fifty-percent, while mine was nonexistent.

Well, holy shit! That means...

"It'll be our turn to spar?" I asked.

"Soon, Mister Winslow, but I believe, from the fight that I had witnessed from the stands tells me that you still have a lot to learn," he said, a stern look made up the entirety of his face.

My eye twitched in anger, "But I won."

"As your instructor, I am to point out every single flaw in your style of fighting. In this case, you attempted to subdue Professor Goodwitch with only the things you had on hand. While the attempt was a success, it was a risky move nonetheless. Now ask yourself, what would have happened if you had failed?"

"Ah, you may be correct, Headmaster, it was a risk. But then again, what is life without a little risk? It would be rather boring, wouldn't it?" I pointed out a flaw in his statement before further adding another point, "Besides, you had decided to enroll me into Beacon when we first met, and you didn't even know me at the time! Isn't that a little risky in itself?"

I watched as my instructor/the Headmaster frown at my answer before shaking his head slowly, "Very well then, Mister Winslow. When you think you are ready, come see me and I will prepare the match. But please... Eddy, I think it would be wise to at least practice more with your new weapons before you get the idea to spar against me."

"Simulation room's getting too boring," I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.

"I granted you the permission to spar with the students of Signal, have you forgotten?" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, I know, but from what I've seen, they're a little immature," I responded, causing Ozpin to smirk lightly at my response.

"They may be, but there's more than meets the eye with these students."

Ah yes, more cryptic cliche bullshit, that never gets old.

I decided to play along with him, "Alright then, I'll go along with this. The next student I come across in the Sparring room, I'll fight."

Ozpin only cocked his head to the side slightly before nodding, "If you think that is the best option."

The Headmaster turned on his heels, motioned to Glynda to follow, and exited the Sparring room, closing the door behind him.

 _ **"...Well, that went better than expected. That was awesome, Eddy!"**_ Zeta cheered.

 _ **"You are improving with you abilities on this world. But the Headmaster is right, you still need more practice,"**_ Omicron advised before disappearing.

I sighed at the male-programmed AI's response, "Well then, now that I'm all alone. I might as well get some practice out of these things. Wait, who the hell am I talking to?"

 _ **"Us,"**_ the two responded in equally annoyed tones.

"Oh, " I said before heading out the door and to my own personal room.

 **-oOo-**

 **Months later...**

Well, today was a special day. Not a day of fighting of Ozpin, no... that still hasn't happened yet, despite the amount of time after I had finally managed to hold my own against Glynda. Nor was it because I had fought a student of Signal, because every time I was here, it seemed that they had left.

No, it was a day of celebration, at least for me; and no, it wasn't because this was now my second year in Beacon.

It was because it w-

"Hey there," I heard a voice behind me say. I stopped in mid-punch after landing another blow against the punching bag.

I turned to see a girl behind me, looking at around... sixteen years old? Brown hair fell past her shoulders, with a lighter brown-orange highlight on the few locks of hair at the right side of her face. She wore a brown sweater, dark brown pants, a handbag in her right hand, and high heels that made her appear a little bit taller than normal, she was probably an inch shorter than me in those heels.

To summarize that description: she was undoubtedly pretty.

 _ **"Stop thinking that, Eddy. Aren't you in your twenties?"**_ Zeta scolded.

 _'Not physically.'_

 ** _"You're fucked up, you know that?"_** she responded.

 _'Hey, Ozpin said that I needed to meet new people. There I go, a new person.'_

 ** _"He has a point, Zeta. He can be more... normal, if he was in a relationship, given that he is now biologically a teenager now,"_** Omicron pointed out. **  
**

_**"Morally, it's still wrong,"**_ they continued to debate.

" _ **When has he done anything considered 'good'?"**_ the male AI asked.

 _ **"..."**_

 _'Jesus, guys. Jumping to assumptions already? I just thought that she was pretty.'_

 ** _"We're just speaking our minds, Eddy. But we'll go along with anything you do,"_** Zeta sighed before shutting down. **  
**

_'Okay then,'_ I mentally replied.

"Sup," I greeted before turning back to the punching bag.

"I've never seen you around here," she said, walking towards me, I stopped abusing the punching bag and turned to her once more.

"That's usually because I'm here at my own times. What're you doing here, gorgeous?" I asked, looking at the Scroll that had been given to me on my first day here, the time read 23:00. I then placed my hands on my hips and cocked my head to the side slightly, awaiting a response.

 ** _"Goddammit, Eddy?"_**

The girl raised an eyebrow at the comment before responding, "Well, I'm here to catch up on some practice. So... since you're here... wanna fight?" she asked with an eager smile on her face.

"Straight to the point, ain't cha?" I responded, watching as the smile on her face grew more sheepish.

"Yeah, pretty much. That's not a problem is it?" the girl asked, raising an eyebrow in concern.

I raised my hands slightly, "No, no, it's not. But yeah, I'll fight."

"Cool, what's your name?" she asked, walking out the door and towards the Sparring room, with me following closely behind her.

"Name's Eddy, Eddy Winslow," I greeted, only for the girl to turn and grin at me.

"Well then, Eddy-Eddy Winslow," I gave her an annoyed look, "I'm Coco Adel."

Goddammit.

We entered the familiar looking Sparring room, with the both of us facing the opposite ends of the room.

I drew my cane out and held it in front of me. Coco, on the other hand, continued to hold onto her handbag.

It took me a few seconds to realize that that was her weapon, "A suitcase?"

"Hey, you're using a cane, we all have our own preferences," she countered.

Dramatic irony, it was only a matter of time before you caught up to me as well, "Alright then, let's get started."

"Okay," she grinned evilly, pulling out a pair of shades from her pocket and putting them on. She then pressed a button on the handle of her bag.

My eyes started to widen in horror as the bag began to expand past it's normal proportions, the front turning into the barrel of a gun and the rest forming into a handle, a large magazine, and several other parts that seemed all too familiar.

Her bag had just turned into a gold and grey six-barreled, air-cooled, most possibly Dust powered minigun.

 _ **"Well... shit,"**_ all three of us thought at the same time.

To raise the stakes even more, my mouth did something extremely stupid.

"Miss Adel, let's make a bet," I heard myself saying.

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh, and what would that be?"

 _'Mouth!? What are you doing? Shut up! Shut down!'_

 ** _Mouth. exe has stopped responding._**

 _'Fuck!'_

"Well then, given how beautiful you are-"

"Damn straight," she grinned, "You're pretty good-looking yourself."

 _'Oh, this one has a mouth on her, me gusta- no! Stop it, brain! Why you as we- oh fuck it, I'll just have to deal with it then...'_ I grumbled.

"If you win, then you make a request of your choice," she nodded in thought at my suggestion, "But if you lose... then I get to take _you_ out on a date."

 ** _"Eddy?"_**

 _'Yes, Zeta?'_

 ** _"I hate you."_**

 _'I love you too."_

Coco paused for a minute at my form of flirting before grinning and revving up her minigun, "Sounds like a deal."

 _'Welp, this is how I die... again...'_

"Ready?" she asked, pointing the oversized gun at me.

"Of course," I grinned, unholstering my pistol and holding it in my left hand.

With an inhuman burst of speed, I sprinted towards her at a quick pace with my pistol pointed toward several parts of her body. Coco, on the other hand, raised her minigun towards me and fired.

This was the end of my special day, and the start of a new one. Me turning fifteen-years old in this world.

 _'Happy Birthday to me,'_ I chuckled inwardly as the two of us clashed against one another in the ensuing fight.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: And that's a wrap, folks! What will happen now that it's our new student's second year? Check it out in the next chapter.**

 **Episode 9 of RWBY Volume 3 is out, and I've got this to say: JESUS H. CHRIST, MARY, JOSEPH, AND THE SHEPHERDS JUMPING ON A FUCKING POGO STICK THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY!**

 **Now that I got that out of my system, let me know what you guys think of this story in the review section.**

 **And as always, stay beautiful, ladies and gents.**


	4. Chapter 4: Qrow

**Q &A & Responses: **

**Acerman:** **Now that you mention it, Torchwick also plays a significant role to the story as well, but like all the others, it will not be revealed yet.**

 **thenotes146: Thank you. **

**welcometodalolz: DEATH TO THE INSTITUTE. Those Synth scum... (except Curie, she's mine! And (Spoilers!), he didn't know that he was a Synth, so I spared him.)**

 **Kerlongsj Evert Orlejov:** **Thank you for your input, as well as discovering this story as well.**

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** **Takes place a month after chapter 3. I will also be introducing a few familiar characters as well, so yeah, that'll be new.**

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY, just my OC.**

* * *

 **-Chapter 4: Qrow's Nest-**

 _ **"We will now be reaching your destination in five minutes,"**_ a robotic female voice blared out as I continued to sit in my seat.

I was currently sitting on a reclining chair on a small private ship, with a duffle bag sitting at my feet as well as my cane and gun resting beside me.

A friend of Ozpin's was supposed to meet me upon my arrival, so I was expected to be there on time... at least the silver-haired Professor hopes, but at this point, he more than likely knows I'm not going follow through with that.

I looked out the window to see the airship beginning it's descent towards my location, perfect. I pulled out my flask from my belt, opened it up, and proceeded to drink from it. I shook my head slightly at the taste of the whiskey before putting it back.

"Do you need anything else before we land?" a woman say next to me, I turned to see that she was, in fact, one of the flight attendants; dressed in a white skirt and a blue-buttoned dress shirt. I lowered my grey sunglasses and looked at her before raising them back up and shaking my head.

"Nah, I'm good," I responded, watching as she nodded and walked away, rolling a small cart away with her.

I fished my scroll out of my pocket and turned it on: 15:30 (2:30 PM). I should be landing right aboooouuut...

 ***Ding!***

Now. Huh, nice timing. I felt the ship finally quit it's descending, the engine now off and the airship lying dead motionless on the landing pad.

 _ **"You have now arrived at your destination. Thank you for flying with-"**_

 _'Yeah, yeah, whatever. I got it,'_ I briefly tuned out the voice before grabbing the duffle bag and swinging it over and onto my shoulder. I grabbed my gun and holstered it onto the back of my belt, then grabbed my cane and began to head out.

With my synthetic left hand still free, I dug my hand inside and opened a small cigarette pack from my pocket. I picked a slim, white cigarette and placed it in between my lips before pulling out a silver-colored lighter from my other pocket. I flipped it open and flicked it to life, creating a small flame, which I then placed over the end of the cigarette.

The side door of the small airship opened up, allowing me to finally walk out of the ship and towards my destination.

I proceeded to take a drag from my cigarette as I searched for Ozpin's associate, still walking out onto the landing pad, searching through the crowd of people who were also searching for any passengers from other airships.

I continued to sift through the crowds before taking the butt of the tobacco stick and flicked it onto the ground, crushing it beneath my boot. Luckily, no harm would come to me from smoking these things, this was one of the many benefits of volunteering to have your organs substituted with synthetic replacements.

 _'Zeta, Omicron, do you see him anywhere?'_ I asked the two AIs in my head.

 _ **"Let's see... nope. Not yet,"**_ Zeta responded as continued to make my way through the crowds.

"Yo, Eddy! Over here!" I heard, turning to see a black and grey-haired man with red eyes, wearing a buttoned grey shirt with a cape sticking out from the back, long black pants, and a tilted cross necklace hanging from his neck. From his back hung a small, compact sword.

 _ **"Nevermind, there he is. Good luck,"**_ Omicron said. I felt the two deactivate themselves as the man approached me.

"So, you finally made it," he said, cocking an eyebrow upward at my presence.

"Qrow, I'm standing right in front of you, you asshole," I replied, to which he narrowed his eyes at me before nodding.

"M'kay. C'mon, let's go," he beckoned to me before turning around and stumbling away like an idiotic drunk. Come to think of it, I guess he _was_ drunk.

The both of us continued to walk away from the landing pad and into the Kingdom. I was greeted by large, dark-grey behemoths of buildings, highlighted in blue and white lights that shone from the skyscrapers.

First, there was Vale, a rather normal city within Earth's range of technology in the modern age; then there was this place. As I continued to move towards the place, I noticed an increasing number of robots, each wielding Dust-powered rifles, standing motionless to the sides of the buildings that surrounded us. They seemed inactive at first, but I knew that, once there was a sign of any form of trouble, they would automatically spring to life and deal with the misdemeanor before resuming their original positions.

I continued to walk down the street with Qrow, who's hands were held above and resting behind the back of his head, and was wolf-whistling to any pretty girl that passed by, a majority of them giving him repulsed looks, while the minority of the women that he not-so-subtly flirted with merely responded with a faint blush.

"Hey dickhead, keep it in your pants," I elbowed him in the ribs, causing the man to stumble slightly before he stood back up straight and continued to walk beside me.

The man only scowled at me before smirking, "You hit like my thirteen-year old niece."

"Fuck you," I responded, flipping him off as we still walked along the sidewalk.

"Not interested," he shot back at me before looking back at the city, "So... what do you think of this place?"

I looked at Qrow, then at the city, then back to Qrow before shrugging and responding to his question.

"Ah yes, Atlas. I can feel the gears of bureaucracy grinding me up already," I said, shaking my head at the fact that we were in _**this**_ kingdom in particular.

"You're not the only one, buddy," Qrow laughed as we continued to travel to our destination.

 **-oOo-**

Now why would I be in Atlas when I had a fight with Ozpin to be involved with? Well, I'll get right to that.

Between me meeting my new girlfriend, Coco as well as the great and drunken Qrow Branwen, I spent a lot of time practicing in different forms of combat before finally perfecting my abilities with my new weapons, as well a picking up a few new tricks along the way.

Did I mention that Coco was now my girlfriend? Cause that happened too. Turns out, after whipping my ass with that not-so-mini-gun of hers, she actually wanted a date from me anyways. So I started to meet with her more often after her classes; these dates usually consisted of training in the sparring room, sitting and eating with her at the mess hall (as well as meeting some of her friends), an just plain hanging out, despite the fact that she was a year older than me on this world, and the fact that I would've been much older than her if we were on Earth; but hey, I have a new life, I have to make the best of what I have. So far it's already been a month and she seems pretty happy that the both of us are together.

Now some people may ask me, "Eddy? How are you still alive even when that that minigun could've turned you into Swiss cheese? Especially when you don't have an Aura?"

That can be explained easily, and the answer is: my suit. Let me explain further on that, the Nanoskin comes with a system called the KIT meter, which stands for Kinetic Impact Threshold. What this does is activate a sort of 'armor mode' for my suit; meaning that when something were to hit me really, REALLY hard, my suit would take the brunt of the impact and allow me to survive almost completely unharmed. To put it simply for the people of Remnant: it was a technological substitute for Aura, and it lived up to it's form as a substitute pretty damn well.

At this point, more keen people would ask me, "So how come you are able to survive Coco's bullets easily, yet you were killed by a gunshot to the head?"

Let me explain, the KIT meter runs on a gauge that allows me to take hits of a large magnitude, depending on the type, size, and impact of the kinetic force. Luckily, the gauge was at one-hundred percent when I fought against Coco, so I was able to survive the fight with ease. As for my death on Earth, I wasn't wearing my helmet, so I was completely vulnerable to all forms of firearms.

So remember kids: always wear a helmet, it might save your life one day, and don't take me as an example.

Now where was I? Oh right! The fight with Ozpin, let's get right onto that.

 **-oOo-**

This was it, this was the day that I have been waiting for since I began my training.

"So... any idea why you're supposed to meet with the ol' Headmaster?" Coco asked, the both of us were heading to the Sparring room, her heels clicking against the hard floor beneath us as we continued onward while I was holding a small plastic bag in my right hand.

I nodded to her, "Yes, Ozpin and I have to... discuss something private."

She frowned and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow as she did so, "Not going to tell me, lover boy?"

"Heh, I wish I could, but Ozpimp wants me to be discreet with all this. Sorry 'bout that," I apologized, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, to which she hesitated slightly at my action before eventually accepting it.

"Alright, I understand," Coco nodded slowly before sighing, "Just... can you at least tell me what's going on with you and the Headmaster when all of this secrecy crap blows over?"

I thought about it for a second, "Yeah, I will."

"Good, cause the Headmaster of Beacon Academy himself doesn't come to Signal for just _anyone_ ," she explained, bringing up a good point.

"Maybe I just have potential," I suggested, causing her to stifle a giggle, "What's so funny?"

"Really? Coming from the guy who's ass I just kicked on our first 'date'?" she air-quoted 'date' with her fingers, causing me to frown at her, "But despite your 'assumed' mediocrity, there's something about you that's different from the others."

This time, I did my best to hold in a laugh, "Coco, my dear, you have no idea."

She elbowed me in the ribs at my response, "Don't call me 'my dear'. Just Coco will do."

"Alright then, Just-Coco," I grinned mischievously, rubbing the spot where Coco hit me, "And ow."

"That's what you get," she smirked, putting her hands to her hips.

"Oh yeah?" I responded by quickly wrapping my arms around the brown-haired girl's waist and lifting her off her feet, causing her to emit a loud yelp in surprise and flail her arms around wildly.

"Gah! Stop it! Put me down!" she screamed before I finally let go of her after a few seconds have passed. I laughed as she only blushed lightly and pouted at me in a rather cute way, to which I responded by ruffling her hair slightly.

As soon as I removed my hand from the top of her head, I finally realized something, "Hey Coco?"

"Yes, Eddy?" she looked at me with a curious look on her face.

"I forgot to give you something," I said, sheathing my cane over my back with my left hand.

"Really?" Coco asked, with a surprised look on her face, "What is it?"

"Consider it a gift," I responded, lifting the plastic bag in my right hand a little higher and used my other to dig through the plastic wrapping. After a few seconds of digging, I pulled out two things from within the bag.

My girlfriend couldn't do anything but give me an even more surprised look at what I got her.

The first was a beret, while the other was a scarf, with both articles of clothing being black in color.

"Hold still," I told her. Immediately, I grabbed the beret and placed it on Coco's head. After that, I grabbed ahold of the scarf and began to wrap it around her neck, just below the collar of her light brown sweater.

I then took a step back and looked at the results.

"Not bad," I nodded in satisfaction, "It actually looks good on you."

She smiled at my compliment, "You know how to make a girl feel loved, do ya, Eddy?"

"It's my talent," I bowed my head at her comment.

"Oh really? Well in that case-"

 ***POW!***

"Agh! Goddammit! What was that for?" I asked, rubbing my left shoulder with my hand from the punch she just delivered.

"That was for picking me up," she answered with a slight grin on her face before we both stopped at the entrance to the Sparring arena.

I looked at Coco, who looked back at me, "Welp, I gotta go now, I'll see ya later, darling."

Her eye twitched at my comment, but I responded by laughing, "Not funny."

"It was pretty funny, you gotta admit," I said, wagging a finger at her, to which she gave me slight glare before grabbing me by the collar of my Nanosuit-disguised shirt and pulling me into a deep kiss; the both of us closed our eyes while her arms draped over my shoulders. After a few seconds had passed, we broke off the kiss and looked back at one another.

"So... I guess I'll see you later?" Coco asked, giving me an awkward look before I nodded.

"Sure, I'll catch you later, beautiful," I grinned before leaning over and pecking her on the lips, I then turned away and opened the door. I looked back to see Coco walking away, swaying her hips in a very ladylike manner before she looked back at me and winked. I couldn't help but lean against the doorway, cross my arms, and smile at her, my head shaking slowly in amusement. I watched as she turned the corner and left my line of sight.

 _ **"Keep it in your pants, Eddy,"**_ Zeta huffed from within my mind.

 _'I thought you'd arrive sooner when she and I kissed,'_ I thought to the feminine AI.

 _ **"I convinced her not to. I told her that it was best that you formed a relationship that at least lasted more than a week. I am actually satisfied with the results,"**_ Omicron mused, _**"Both of you share similar traits in regards to personality, so it is pretty obvious as to how you were able to form a relationship with her in the first place."**_

 _'So you're saying that the reason I'm able to hold a decent conversation with her is only because we act alike?'_ I mentally glared at the holographic robot in my brain.

 _ **"If you take your other girlfriends into account, then yes."**_

 _'Oh fuck you, lightbulb.'_

 ** _"Do you need more convincing proof? If so, I can bring up Kylie-"_**

 _'She wanted me for my money, that didn't count.'_

 ** _"Pam-"_**

 _'How many times have I told you that I was just her friend? There was nothing romantic going on between the two of us!'_

 ** _"What about Iris?"_**

 _'... Okay, I'll give you that one. I broke it off because she was a... what do you call them? I don't watch anime, but what are those girls that are really attracted to you and will do anything to make you theirs? Zeta, I think you know what they're called.'_

 ** _"Really? Because I'm the only one in this brain that watches anime?"_**

 _'Hey, I'm both the brawn and the brains, you both help plan out strategies for our missions as well as provide faster means of running the suit. I wouldn't be surprised if you guys had something to do in your free time. Except you, Omicron, you're a nerd.'_

 ** _"I... will not respond to that,"_** Omicron responded in a confused tone. **  
**

_**"Alright fine, they're called Yanderes; Iris was at least the closest person I've directly seen that resembles that... personality."**_

 _'Ah yes. Iris, the first person to successfully stab me with a pair of safety scissors. I guess dad's lessons in teaching me how to re-inflate a lung really paid off.'_

"Mister Winslow, I believe it is time," I heard a voice behind me say, I looked to see that it was Ozpin, both hands leaning on his cane as he was standing in the center of the room.

 _ **"Well then, let's not keep you waiting,"**_ Zeta said as she logged off.

 _ **"Agreed. Best of luck to you, Eddy,"**_ Omicron followed up before repeating Zeta's actions.

 _'Well fuck me,'_ I thought to myself as I closed the door behind me. I removed my cane from my back and began to walk with it until I stood just a few feet away from Ozpin.

"I hope that you and miss Adel didn't cause too much trouble," he grinned humorlessly.

I cocked my head to the side at his response, "How did you-"

"Mister Winslow, it's my job to be informed with what goes around, whether it is in Beacon or in Signal," the silver-haired man answered.

"Well, I'll have you know," I nonchalantly pointed at the man, "We didn't cause any trouble at all."

Ozpin only raised an eyebrow for a second before nodding, bringing up his cane in a defensive stance, "So be it. Shall we begin?"

I responded by switching the cane onto my right hand, holding the cane by it's collar, rather than the handle itself.

"Of course," I said, before noticing that something was missing. Well, not some _thing,_ but some _one_ , "Where's Glynda?"

"Professor Goodwitch is currently back at Beacon, educating the rest of the students back at the academy. She _does_ have a job to uphold, rather than just teaching you, Mister Winslow," he answered as we continued to pace around the room with our weapons drawn.

 _'Guys, is the KIT gauge on?'_ I asked the two AI in my head.

 _ **"Yeah, why?"**_

 _'Cause this is where the fun begins,'_ I grinned.

 **-oOo-**

Yeah, this really was where the fun... you know what, I'll be honest; that man was more than meets the eye, I'll tell you that.

Need more proof, I'll show you what happened immediately after.

 **-oOo-**

I proceeded to watch carefully as both me and the Headmaster continued to pace around the room, trying to analyze each others' strengths and weaknesses just from observations.

As we both observed one another, the both of us began to walk closer and closer to one another until both canes crossed one another.

As soon as the both of us got within striking distance, that's when I acted. As fast as I could, I pulled my cane back and took a swing at the man, only to watch as the shaft of his cane suddenly appeared at his side, blocking the blow.

With a scowl on my face, I retracted my cane and held it in an improvised fencing form. Upon my new stance, I immediately unleashed a barrage of attacks against the man: stabs and thrusts that were easily knocked aside, swipes that were parried just as easily, and slashes that failed to harm the man, but it sure did anger me a lot, but I managed to keep my cool.

From what I can tell, Ozpin was trying to wear me out by playing completely on the defensive, as well as try to anger me enough to slip up, leaving me open for a counterattack.

After failing to him more than a few times, I decided to change up my form on the offensive. As soon as he blocked another blow with ease, I crouched below and attempted to sweep his legs out from under him with my leg. The move was successful, but he lowered his cane down in an attempt to catch the attack and spring himself back to his feet. Out of anger, I knocked the cane out from under him as this had happened, but it was too late, he was already back on his feet, with his cane still poised to strike.

"Gah!" I finally yelled at him before rushing towards the Headmaster, trying to swing, stab, and just plain attack the man in an attempt to stagger him, "Just! Let! Me! Hit! You!"

Rather than fulfilling my request, Ozpin did something different. The man lifted his cane until he was holding it at the center before proceeding to dodge my attacks. Ozpin proceeded to maneuver through each blow, with me narrowly missing each strike as he dodged each attack with the cane just centimetres from his as he moved away from each blow.

It wasn't until I slammed the cane down where Ozpin originally stood before whirling back and sending a roundhouse kick right where Ozpin reappeared. My foot made direct impact with the center of his chest, sending him sliding back on his feet before forcing himself to stop by slamming his cane down on the ground.

I looked to see that Ozpin now held a strange smile on his face before raising his cane up until it pointed at me.

Then he uttered two words, two words that would most likely haunt me in the future. Two words that I never saw coming.

"My turn."

I barely had enough time register Ozpin disappearing from where he once stood, only for him to reappear in front of me at a blinding pace. What happened next was literally a blur, forcing me to play on the defensive, making me realize that the tables had now turned.

As Ozpin began to strike at me, he moved at an extremely fast pace, barely giving me enough time to block each blow, but I managed to hold firm on playing defense.

How? Someone might ask. Why, the suit's time dilation modification. More than a few seconds into Ozpin's shift onto the offense, with the ability to move faster than what the human eye can normally see, I had Zeta and Omicron allow me to perceive time at a slower pace while still allowing me to think at what can be considered a normal speed. Did this option have a lot of advantages? Yes it did, allowing me to strategize and plan each attack while on the battlefield; but it came with one nasty flaw: it drained my suit like a bitch, so I could only use it for brief amounts of time.

 _ **"Power holding at forty-six percent,"**_ Omicron informed. My suit was originally at eighty-eight, and I was only using time dilation for only a matter of seconds.

With the man attacking me at a blindingly fast pace, I knew I wouldn't hold for long, so I jumped back and and grabbed my gun, pulled it out from the depths of my jacket, took aim, and fired. Rather than actually hitting the man, he began to stalk towards me, quickly blocking each shot with his cane; it would've been a scary sight, were he not a silver-haired man with an unconscious obsession with coffee that always walked with that apparent death stick of his.

The more that I think about it, it seemed logical that Ozpin would make himself seem less intimidating, it would give his opponents the surprise.

As the Headmaster began to close the distance between the two of us, I had to form a plan against the man that was still walking towards me.

Well, I guess now more than a better time to test out my cane's brand new feature. With a (sort-of) plan now in my brain, I ran towards Ozpin, who was making his way towards me as well.

I raised my cane to bludgeon the man, but he again raised his weapon to block it. As soon as the weapons made contact, I used my other hand to knock away the cane. As soon as that happened, I pressed a hidden button on my cane; I watched as the shaft of the cane suddenly began to shift and flatten out: creating a cane-sword, which was now pointed just inches away from the Professor of Beacon Academy.

Ozpin only looked at the upgrade to my weapon before looking back at me with an amused look on his face.

"I see you've made some modifications to your weapons," he mused, lowering his cane until he balanced it between his hands.

"Yeah, I have," I answered with a sneer on my face, which then dropped before realizing something, "Aren't you going to fight back?"

The Headmaster tilted his head to the side for only a split second before looking upwards slightly, "No... I believe we are finished for now."

I gave him a strange look, lowering my cane and pressing the button again, the cane's blade began to expand until it formed a cylindrical shaft, "The fuck are you talking about? I wait and practice for a long time only for you to stop the match as soon as my weapon goes lethal?"

He responded by shaking his head, "Of course not, Mister Winslow. I merely stopped the fight upon making a few observations."

"Like what?"

"First was the fact that you were able to land a blow against me, only one other person was able to do that ever since I became Headmaster. Second, you were able to hold your own against me for an extended period of time. And last, the blade of your weapon was pointed directly at me; if this was a fight against the Creature of Grimm, that would no doubt be a kill strike, while against a human or Faunus assailant, it would be in their right mind to surrender," he explained.

"What're you saying?" I narrowed my eyes at the man in suspicion, not getting the message that he was explaining to me.

"What I'm saying, Eddy, is that you completed the first part of your training with flying colors. Congratulations, young man," he answered with a slight smile on his face.

For a moment, I was happy that this had happened, I was now closer to becoming a- "Wait a minute, first part of my training?"

"Of course. You expected your training to only be made up of sparring and practicing? I hope not, those are only for the regular students," Ozpin said with a slight smirk on his face before turning around and walking away.

I watched as he began to leave the Sparring arena, his cane still tapping away at the ground beneath him, "I will contact you when the second portion of your training is about to begin. In the meantime, continue to practice until I call for you again."

As soon as he exited the room, I could only think one thing.

 _ **"Eddy, are you alright?"**_

 _'That's it, I'm going to kill him. I am absolutely fucking done with this training,'_ I grit my teeth in frustration before leaving the room as well.

 _ **"Please calm down, Eddy. You're not really going to kill the man, are you?"**_

 _'Of course not, I'm going to find Coco, I need to calm down and I think a date might work for me,'_ I said to the AIs

 _ **"Oh, well in that case, have fun,"**_ Omicron said before logging off.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I muttered under my breath.

 **-oOo-**

Well, for the next two weeks, I did just as Ozpin had told me: train, practice, and whatever was another synonym for both words; as well as going out with my girlfriend every so often.

As these two weeks passed, I received some confidential information that Zeta pulled up from the Academy. Now what are these Four Maidens? Eh, I'll look into it later, seems boring.

To summarize, I only practiced with my cane and gun as well as spend some time with Coco and her friends, but that was about to change when I got a call from Ozpin himself.

 **-oOo-**

I looked down at my Scroll, seeing that it was from Ozpin. I guess it was about time I start part two of my training.

 _'Meet me in your room.'_ it read. Well, that would definitely give people the right idea if they were to read that message.

"I gotta go," I said to Coco, who was sitting beside me at the lunch table with her friends.

"Alright them, I'll see you later," she replied before pulling me in for a quick kiss. I then broke it off and got up from my seat, picked up my tray, threw away any scraps that remained, and walked out of the Cafeteria.

Without interruption, I made my way to my dorm, a mid-sized room that was loaned to me by Ozpin himself. As soon as I reached my dorm, I opened the door to see Ozpin standing before me, seated on a nearby chair.

"Hey Ozpimp, next time you send a message, make it sound less vague, and that it makes a bit more sense

"You've arrived," he said.

"Yeah, I know. That surprising for you?" I asked.

"No, it's just that someone else is supposed to meet us here."

"Someone else?"

"Yes, a good friend of mine, he's essential for the next part of your training," he explained.

As soon as he said that, two others: Professor Goodwitch and another man opened the door and walked- no, stumbled into the room.

"I had to drag him here myself, he's stubborn," Glynda huffed as she watched man pick himself off the floor.

"Next time you want to manhandle me, Glynda, it should be behind a locked door," the man slurred before looking at the door, "Well, whaddaya know!"

"My God, you're such a drunken idiot," Goodwitch mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

"Hey! Who're you callin' drunk, huh? I only had a little bit," he said, pulling out a flask and tipping it over, only for nothing to come out, "See!... Oh, nevermind."

I watched as the man then turned his attention to the Headmaster, "Hey Ozzy! What's up?"

"You're late," the Professor answered.

"I was very, _**very** _ far away from here, it makes sense that I would be late for this... meeting," he hiccuped.

"You were right across the hall, passed out drunk after teaching a class," Goodwitch deadpanned.

"Wait a minute... this guy's a teacher?!" I exclaimed, looking over at the man, who's glazed red eyes then flicked to me as he heard my voice.

"And who might you be?" the man asked, trying to stand up straight, only to watch as he stumbled a bit more.

"Name's Eddy," I answered, the man narrowed his eyes at me for a second before nodding slowly.

"So... you're Ozpin's new dick-in-training?" he smirked.

"Qrow!" Glynda yelled.

 _'Well, fuck you too,'_ I thought.

"Yeah, we're hiring," 'Qrow' raised an eyebrow at my response, "But I don't really think you'll... measure up."

The room went dead silent at my reply. Glynda's mouth hung open in shock, even Ozpin gave a slightly stunned look. But... Qrow? He only burst out laughing before walking over to me and wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

"Ha! I can tell I'm gonna like you already."

"Ahem, Eddy, this is Qrow Branwen," Ozpin introduced.

"Sup?" Qrow said before pulling up a chair and sitting in it, "My name's Qrow, and I'm an alcoholic... I haven't been sober for God knows how long."

"Then why don't you stop drinking?" Glynda asked.

"Hey, if I stop drinking, I'm afraid that the cumulative hangover might kill me," he answered, watching as Goodwitch only sighed and give up on trying to reason with the drunk's logic.

"Qrow is going on a mission soon, and I believe that you would be the best possible candidate to travel with him," Ozpin explained.

"You mean the 'only'," both Qrow and I responded simultaneously, only for the both of us to look at one another before shrugging.

"So wait, you mean that I'll be leaving Vale?"

"Correct, you will be assisting Qrow in several Hunting missions as well as taking on some of your own," before I could open my mouth to respond, he spoke again, "The reason why I cannot travel is because it is my job as Headmaster to help in running the schools. My sincere apologies."

And before I could ask why he was apologizing, I looked at Glynda, who had a slightly disturbed look on her face, while Qrow merely laughed and walked over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"Don't you worry kid, just stick with me and you'll do just fine," he said.

Unfortunately for me, I knew that tone of voice he was using, it was the tone I used when I knew that someone is about to die.

 _'Oh.. fuck. Me.'_

"Your first mission will take place in Atlas," Ozpin explained before getting up to leave, with Goodwitch following close behind, leaving me alone with Qrow.

 _'With a motherfucking cactus.'_

Unfortunately, I had no idea what would be in store for me in the future.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: Done, hope you like this chapter, don't forget to let me know what you guys think of this one.**

 **Keep your eyes peeled for the next one as well: where we see what happens to our anti-hero in the land of Atlas.**

 **And as always, stay beautiful, ladies and gents.**


	5. Chapter 5: Shark Attack

**Q &A and Responses: **

**Gravenimage:** **Flashback to Innkeeper's skirt-length scene (Heavy Breathing).**

 **Acerman: You're welcome. Well, Eddy and Coco's relationship won't  blow up, per say. Yeah, some of his Exes are crazy! Well, there may be something I could do should Eddy be involved in any incident with Jaune, but nothing big as of now. Qrow made an insult implying Eddy being inexperience, while Eddy retaliated with a small "anatomy" insult. **

**Ninjawolf82: (Best Elvis Presley impression) Thank you, thank you very much. **

**Thegreatjman:** **I know, I want to say that Ozpin was going easy on him, but that would be lying. In reality, as much as Eddy hates it, he was actually just really, _REALLY_ lucky.**

* * *

 **Author's** **Notes: The following takes place in various times and dates. The earliest being thirty minutes after Eddy reaches Atlas, and the latest being 2 months after his arrival. **

**I will also be introducing a new character in the story, as well as Eddy getting involved with some characters from the one and only Atlas.**

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY, just my OC(s).**

* * *

 **-Chapter 5: Shark Attack-**

 _'Dear Dad,_

 _Today is my first day in Atlas Academy. I don't have enough time, so I'll keep this brief. I honestly don't know what I'll be expecting other than the fact that this is a place to either join the Atlas Military or become a Huntsman._

 _Even though this is the first day, there's already been an accident even before the start of the school year. One of our instructors broke their leg after fighting a Deathstalker, that's the bad news. The good news however, is that there'll be a substitute for the next ten weeks, which would be the estimated time for our original instructor to finally recover and be back on his feet._

 _Well, anyway, today is the start of the first day, and I have to be at the Barracks on time. Love you, Dad._

 _-Your son, Trey Pallor.'_

I looked at my message and reread it a few times before nodding and sending the message from my Scroll. I suddenly heard the sound of footsteps leaving the area, so I shut off the small, transparent device and shoved it into my pocket.

I looked at myself in the mirror for only a solid second: blue eyes, brown hair with a slight blond highlight in the front, and wearing my Atlas Academy Cadet uniform. All good to go. I then reached for my duffle bag and slung it over my shoulder as I followed after the other students ahead of me.

As I continued to walk, I realized I wasn't paying attention and accidentally bumped into a girl in front of me.

"Oof!" she grunted as she stumbled and fell onto her back.

"Oh, sorry about that," I apologized, holding my hand out for her to take.

"It's fine, it was only an accident," she replied nonchalantly, brushing off her skirt and looking at me with a polite smile on her face. The girl before me had dark brown skin, short black hair that stopped an inch above her shoulders, and sky-blue eyes. She wore a bright blue beret and the female Atlas uniform. On her forehead was a yellow sun-shaped mark on her head.

"Yeah, I guess it was. Nice to meet you, I'm Trey. Trey Pallor," I held my hand out to the girl as we continued to walk alongside the rest of the students.

"Ciel Soleil," she greeted, shaking my hand and bowing her head slightly.

"Pleasure to meet you, Ciel," I smiled at her as we continued to walk to the Barracks.

After a few seconds of silence between the two of us, she finally spoke.

"So... who do you think our substitute instructor will be? I heard some of the usual gossip that Lieutenant Thistle might not recover from his injury, even with his Aura."

"Well, I heard that the decision was actually last minute, so we have no idea who it might be," I answered, earning a nod from the girl, " **BUT** I do know this, he was chosen specifically by General Ironwood himself."

"Really? Well, I guess that means this substitute might be really good at his job," Ciel commented, her eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"I guess so. Hey Ciel?"

"Yes, Trey?" she responded, looking at me as she awaited my request.

"Mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"I don't mind, go ahead," Ciel answered.

"What're you doing here in Atlas Academy?" I asked, awaiting an answer from the girl.

"Well, I'm training to be a Huntress actually, though I have considered joining the Atlesian Navy once or twice. You?"

"Same here, training to be a Huntsman, but I actually excel in Riot Control. At least, that's what the score results have shown for me," I answered as we continued making our way towards the Barracks. Ah yes, the infamous aptitude test, an exam that apparently has no 'wrong' answer; the military career choices can range from being an Atlesian security enforcer, to being a Huntsman, or even Radar Technician (one of the guys there was fired due to mental instability, they wouldn't go into detail about it), though most weren't particularly popular career choices, each job had a purpose that would hold up what made the Atlas Military.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, "Hey, don't worry about it, scores don't make up who you are."

"... Were you trying to make me feel better?" I raised an eyebrow at her comment, holding an amused look on my face.

"Um... yeah? I think. Was that what was going on right now?" Ciel blushed slightly as she watched me shake my head slowly.

"I'm perfectly fine with my scores Ciel, Huntsman actually comes in second, so I should have no problems with it," I explained, watching as she turned even more red in embarrassment.

"Heheh, sorry about that whole comforting thing," she looked down.

"Eh, I'm fine about it," I said before looking at her with a small grin, "By the way, I'll give that a solid twelve out of ten on the sympathy meter."

That comment immediately brightened her up a little more, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I nodded to her before I looked at the crowd of students in front of us. Ahead of the large group was a door, and beside that was an Atlas Soldier, dressed in a white uniform with with blue trim running along the sides and shoulders of his outfit, and a blue cap propped upon his head.

"Single file line, all of you," the soldier commanded. At his order, we immediately formed into a line, with an orange-haired girl with blue-highlighted bangs that covered her forehead and a cat bell collar around her neck, and me being in the very back.

"Private Neon Katt?" the Atlas soldier asked the girl, reading from a Scroll as he performed a facial scan of the girl.

"Yes sir!" she saluted enthusiastically.

"Bunk A001," the man said, watching as she immediately marched into the room, "Private Flynt Coal?"

"Sir!" the next person, a dark-skinned boy around my height shouted.

"Bunk B001. Private Indie Jones?"

"Yes sir?" a tall, brown-haired girl asked.

"Bunk A005. Private Kroam Lapis?"

"Sir!" one of the next recruits saluted.

"Bunk A010."

The process went on for a matter of minutes before they came to the last few cadets.

"Private Ciel Soleil?"

"Yes sir?"

"Bunk A003," the soldier responded, "Private Trey Pallor?"

I raised my hand to my head in a military salute, "Sir, yes sir!"

"Bunk B003," the helmeted Atlas soldier lowered the clipboard as we proceeded to walk inside.

That's when we saw the barracks: a symmetrical white and olive-green walled room, bare with any lack of anything on said walls, the only things that made up the room was the long rows of bunk beds that lined up against the sides of the walls, under the lower portions of the beds lie a pair of foot lockers, most likely one for each person that slept on the beds.

"Please line up in front of your beds, face the wall opposite of you, and await further instructions," the soldier ordered before we heard him turn sharply on his heels and walk away in a stiff, militaristic manner.

From a distance, as we followed the man's previous instructions, we heard, "Damn, I almost feel sorry for the kids that have to put up with _**him**_."

This confused me. Who's 'him'? Is it our temporary instructor?

Seconds later, we heard loud marching towards the barracks. The sound of the boots that marched against the floor said only a things: most likely our new instructor, and from what the previous soldier had said, he would most definitely be strict.

"So, I guess our new instructor is coming," Ciel, who was on my right, whispered to me.

"I guess so," I nodded, then looking to my right to see Private Neon trying to contain her energetic demeanor.

"I bet he's gonna be awesome! He's gonna teach us how to fight, make weapons," she suddenly gasped as a thought entered her mind, "Maybe he'll let us watch how he fought in his younger years."

"What makes you think he's going to be old?" the boy on her right, Private Flynt, asked skeptically.

"Well duh!" she said in a 'matter-of-fact' tone, "He's not on the field, fighting Grimm. So he probably retired and is likely to teach us how to-"

"ALL OF YOU PRIVATES, SHUT YOUR FUCKING TRAPS!" a loud, grisly voice screamed, forcing all of us to stand up stiffly out of panic. Most of the faunus' in the barracks had their hairs standing up on end.

 _Uh oh,_ I, as well as most likely everyone else in the room, thought in dread.

I looked at the newcomer who had just entered the room. He wore a steel-grey military uniform with trim along his uniform that was of lighter shades. On his head was was campaign hat of the same color scheme as his suit: grey; covering his eyes was a pair of shades. His left hand was masked by a leather glove, which was rather strange, given that his right hand was bare for all to see.

"Now keep quiet. Just the way I like it," he said with a cold, angry scowl, almost exactly like a retired soldier, though this contrasted with his actual appearance. His face looked young, yet he talked with extreme maturity, it was very, **very** strange even to me.

As he paced around the room silently like a hungry lion, looking at each of us with cold, malicious intent in his eyes, I finally noticed a few other things as well. He didn't look familiar at all, so he was probably new; but at the same time, he acted in a professional manner more so than any of the other Atlesian officers that I've seen before.

The man cleared his throat, "Good. Now-"

And this is where everything went downhill from here. At least, for us recruits; for him, our Hell was his personal Heaven.

"My name is Staff Sergeant Winslow, your temporary Drill Instructor. From now on, you will speak only when spoken to; and the first and last words to come out of your filthy sewers will be 'sir'! Do you maggots understand?" he shouted to use as he walked around the room.

"Sir, yes sir!" we shouted at his request.

"Bullshit, I can't hear you! Sound off like you got a pair!"

" _ **Sir, yes sir**_!" the students repeated in a louder tone.

What we didn't know was that we were going to be going through a world of Hell...

 **-oOo-**

 **2 Months earlier...**

Landing on Atlas with a private airship given by Master Caned Pimp himself was the easiest part of, well, going to Atlas. But going through Customs? That's a different story entirely; in fact, it may be one that I might as well tell right now.

Before we could enter Atlas' Capitol, we had to pass through a Customs Office. It was sorta like when I had to pass through those metal detectors on Earth, only when a weapons was discovered, you had to have proof that you are either carrying a license of the weapon, or have show ID that you were a Huntsman/Huntress if the weapons was custom-made.

Before both Qrow and I walked through the detector, I released my duffle bag and unholstered my pistol, placing them both on the tray beside me. I turned to see that one of the soldiers was giving me a look of concern.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my Scroll, typing away with my fingers before pulling up my ID and displaying it to the man.

"All right, carry on," he nodded before turning to the man behind me with a scowl, "Qrow Branwen."

"Butch," Qrow smirked at the man before pulling out his flask that seemed to contain a limitless supply of whiskey, "You gonna let me through?"

The man's eye twitched at the sight of the drunken man, "... Of course, I just need to see-"

Qrow pulled out that oversized sword of his and held it out in front of him, "You already know I'm a Huntsman."

"It's just standard procedure and I'm just doing my job, so I still need to see ID," the man muttered in a monotone voice, watching as the drunken man groaned and pulled out his own Scroll and gave it to the man, who nodded in confirmation before handing the device back to Qrow, "You're clear to go."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Qrow only grunted before pushing past me and stepping through the machine, not even caring when the alarm went off as it scanned his weapon.

I followed immediately after, stepping through the machine as it silently scanned me, picking up my gun and bag from the tray that had rolled out from the other machine beside me, holstering the firearm to the back of my belt and slinging the duffle bag over my shoulder once more.

As soon as we both exited the building and made our way towards the city, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Qrow turned to look at me, "What was that?"

"What was what? You were the one doing all that nostalgia bull," I responded, but he only shook his head slowly as my assumption was incorrect.

"Ozpin told me that you're wearing that special suit of yours. Able to turn into normal clothes and such, but how did it manage to get passed the detectors?" he asked.

I was actually surprised by how perceptive he currently was, so I had no choice but to answer in the most simplistic way possible for those that were temporarily, mentally impaired by the beautiful, yet killer substance known as alcohol.

"That's classified, Branwen," I gave him the coldest stare that I could must, only to watch him glare back at me and grunt before he continued to stumble off beside me, trying not to all over due to his drunken stupor.

"Classified according to who?"

"To me, dipshit. Now come on, let's get going," I grumbled, the man behind me only sneered at my anger before following close behind me.

In reality, the suit was actually not made of metal at all. The NanoSkin is made up of Carbon, mixed with a cocktail-variety of other unknown elements thrown into the mix to actually make it functional, otherwise it would just be an average bullet-resistant body armor. Well, the elements are probably not unknown, but I wouldn't know, I was only told how the suit worked, not given a manual on what piece makes what function.

The more that I thought about it, it felt like this suit and I were one big Crysis ripoff. Whether this was a good thing or not, I have no idea at all.

"Geez, is it nighttime already?" Qrow spoke aloud, looking up at the shattered moon that was now entirely visible for all to see. I'd never get used to that moon, keeps reminding me that I'm not on Earth anymore, no matter how much I try not to think about it.

But thinking about Qrow's question made me a little more conscious about the area around me: dark grey buildings illuminated by neon cobalt lights that ran vertically across the sides of the building, security bots facial screens lit up by dull red lights that made up the mechanisms in their automaton brains, street lamps lit up the sidewalks as people continued to walk toward and away from us, and cars passing by.

I think I should buy a car too.

"Yeah, let's see if we can find a place to sleep," I answered.

 _'And before I find out if this place has a Red Light District, a la Qrow's utter bullshit,'_ I mentally added as I watched said Huntsman continued to flirt with any girl's that just so happened to have passed by.

 _ **"Amen to that,"**_ I heard Zeta suddenly respond within my brain.

 _'How long have you been listening?'_

 ** _"Ever since we went through Customs, the detectors messed with the implants a little and switched us on by accident,"_** she answered, _**"Also, I found a few of Atlas' little projects just five minutes into hacking the place's security section. Discovered a few curious tidbits that you'd like to see."**_

 _'Tell me about it later, I got other stuff to do right now.'_

 ** _"Good idea, we will see you later,"_** Omicron responded before logging themselves off.

Anyways, despite my little rant in my head, the both of us decided that it would be a good idea to find a hotel of some sorts, since we're not exactly planning on living in this city on any long-term occasions.

 **-oOo-**

 **Present Day...**

I continued to watch as the man pacing around the room continue to announce his intentions to the entire group that surrounded him. Now, I don't scare easily, but just hearing from this guy for the first fifteen seconds has me scared beyond all rational thought.

The dark-grey lenses that covered his eyes, combined with his biting manner, gave him the look of a shark, waiting to prey on anyone who was unfortunate enough to be caught in his crosshairs.

"If you ladies leave this academy, if you survive recruit training; you will be a weapon, you will be a minister of death praying for the annihilation of all things Grimm or likewise."

That didn't sound too bad.

"But until that day, you are pukes, you are the lowest form of life on Remnant. You are not even human-fucking-beings, or even faunus for that matter! You are nothing but unorganized, grabastic pieces of amphibian shit!" he continued to yell.

Fuck.

"Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn; I am hard, but I am fair! There is no racial bigotry here, I do not look down on useless, stubborn, asshole excuses for humans, or dirty, fucking faunus. Here, you are all equally worthless to me-"

Alright, I've heard of this before, both a combination internalized racism mixed with normal racism. The result? What I called 'Prejudice Equality', where this Staff Sergeant Winslow took both a species that is commonly ostracized and the other which does the ostracizing in the first place and lowered them to equal levels: worthless. I had to admit, this was heavy on a psychological level.

"-and my orders are to weed all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in this academy. Do you maggots understand!?"

"Sir, yes sir!" we all replied at the announcement from this nightmare of a Drill Instructor.

"Bullshit, I can't hear you!"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

At first, I thought he would just be some hard-ass soldier pulled out of his job and forcefully assigned to this duty, and that thought of that would further prove itself in the next few seconds, watching as he stopped right in front of Bunks A and B 001; more specifically, in front of Private Neon Katt, who was almost shaking at the terrifying presence of this man who had now focused all his attention on her.

"What's your name, scumbag?" he asked in a forcefully demanding tone.

"Sir, Private Katt, sir!" she squeaked out in the most militaristic way possible, but it seemed that the man in front of her noticed her timidness.

"Bullshit, from now on, you're Private Litter! Do you like that name?" the substitute Drill Instructor asked, watching as the girl blushed in embarrassment.

Ooh, that's bad, he's using the cat stereotypes now, this was not going to end well...

"Sir, yes sir!" Neon responded.

Wait what?

"Well there's one thing that you won't like, Private Litter: they don't serve Meow Mix and saucers of milk on a daily basis in the Mess Hall."

"Sir, yes sir!"

From what I just witnessed, this man is so pant-filling-ly terrifying that she's actually complying with all his questions. To me, it was frighteningly amazing.

But this observation wouldn't last though, it would only be a matter of time before he turned to anyone else in the Barracks, _especially_ me.

"Racism...my God, this is messed up," I heard a whisper beside me say, I glanced to my right to see that it was Ciel of all people to have said this. What made it worse was what happened next.

"Who said that?" I heard from across the room. Unfortunately, I flicked my eyes to the left to see that the Instructor had heard her, "WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT!?"

We all watched as he began to march across the room before standing between the two of us with unbridled fury in his eyes, "WHO'S THE SLIMY LITTLE COMMUNIST SHIT, TWINKLE-TOED COCKSUCKER DOWN HERE WHO JUST SIGNED THEIR OWN DEATH WARRANT!?"

Both Ciel and I watched as he paced around his small little circle, staring at us and anyone within the approximate area, "Nobody huh? The Fairy-fucking-Godmother did it. Out-fucking-standing! I'll PT you all until you fucking die! I'll PT you all until your assholes are sucking buttermilk!"

I then watched in horror as he then pulled one of the recruits beside me, a boy with short, auburn-colored hair, "Was it you, you scroungy little fuck, huh?!"

"Sir, no sir!"

I watched as the man continued to berate the young man who was innocent of his accusation, but it was Ciel who was suffering from it, watching in shock as the man yelled at the boy for something that she did.

"You soulless little piece of shit, you look like a fucking worm, I bet it was you!"

"Sir, I said it sir!" the man turned with an astounded look on his face, while I was equally surprised by this outcome.

More so because it was me that had uttered these words aloud. I continued to look as the man slowly made his way in front of me, "Well... no shit. What have we got here? A fucking lily-liver, Private Softie. I admire your honesty, but you reeeeaaaaally disappoint me, Softie, maybe you're not fit for this academy after all!"

The man then launched a left punch into my abdomen, forcing me to double over and sink to my knees. I grit my teeth as the pain continued to linger. I was surprised that a person such as him was able to land a punch this hard, given that my Aura was able to take the brunt of the force for me. Who was this guy? Also, ow.

"You little shit, I've got your name, I've got your ass!" he screamed into my face as I continued to attempt to stand up straight, "You will not laugh! You will not cry! You will learn by the numbers I will teach you! Now get on your feet!"

In a little less than a few seconds, I was finally on my feet, trying to breathe normally, listening as the shorter man continued to berate me for my false confession.

"You had best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and SHIT DOWN YOUR NECK!" Sergeant Winslow shouted.

"Sir, yes sir!" I managed to muster out.

"Private Softie, why did you decide to take part this Academy?"

"Sir, to kill Grimm, sir!"

"So you're a killer?"

First he hits me, then he twists my words around? Sheesh, where did Ironwood find this guy? Besides that I had no other choice, so I couldn't do anything but answer to his request.

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Let me see your War Face!"

...What?

"Sir?"

"You got a War Face?!" he demanded before shouting at the top of his lungs, "AAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH! That's a War Face! Now let me see your War Face!"

Everyone in the Barracks watched as I shouted alongside him, "Aaaaaaaaggggghhhhh!"

"Bullshit, you didn't convince me, now let me see your real War Face!"

"AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH!" I screamed out once more.

"You don't scare me, work on it," he said before walking away.

"Sir, yes sir!" I finally said before snapping back to reality... what the fuck was that? What just happened? I shook my head slightly as the most recent memories finally bled through, allowing me to piece together what just happened.

"And as for you," he pointed directly at Ciel, who immediately tensed up as his attention was turned towards her.

"S-sir?"

"Don't you 's-sir' me you scraggly little weasel, you got off easy with this one," he then pointed to me, "But the next time you pull shit like that again, he won't be taking the fall for you this time. You understand!?"

"Sir, yes sir!" she nodded quickly.

It took me a second to realize what he had said. He already knew that she was the culprit, and that I was punished for it. This both scared me and confused me greatly at the same time. What was he trying to prove with all this?

"What's your excuse?" I heard a few meters away.

"Sir, excuse for what, sir?" a voice asked. It was one of the girls: Indie Jones.

"I'm askin' the fuckin' questions here Private, do you understand that?"

"Sir, yes sir!" she visibly gulped at his hostility.

"Well thank you very much! Can I be in charge for a while?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Are you shook up?! Are you nervous?!"

"Sir, I am, sir."

"Do I make you nervous?!" he demanded, watching as her eyes widened for a second before responding.

"Sir..."

"Sir what!? Were you about to call me an asshole!?"

"Sir, no sir!" Private Jones replied as quickly as possible.

"How tall are you, Private?"

"Sir, Five-foot six, sir!"

"Five-foot six, I'm not surprised that they stack shit that high! You tryin' to squeeze an inch on me somewhere?"

"Sir, no sir!"

"Bullshit, it looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress! I think you've been cheated!" he screamed the insult straight into her face, watching as she nearly flinched from that comment, "Where in the hell are you from anyway, Private?"

"Sir, Mistral sir!"

This was probably the part where he insults her home.

"Holy dogshit, Mistral, only Boars and whores come from Mistral; and you don't look much like a boar to me so I think that pretty much narrows it down! Do you suck dicks for a living?"

"Sir, no sir," she was doing her best to resist the urge to yell back at this man. We knew it, and we were pretty sure that Sergeant Winslow knew it too.

"Are you a Peter Puffer?!"

"Sir, no sir!" we saw the girl's eye twitch slightly at the accusation.

"I bet you're the kind of gal that would get fucked in the ass and not even be given the goddamn common courtesy to be given a reach-around!

"Sir, no sir!" another eye twitch.

"What's your name, anyway?"

"Sir, Private Indie Jones, sir!"

"Indie Jones, that sounds like a movie name! Did you star in any 'special' movies?"

"Sir, no sir!"

"Well from now on, you're Private Ford!"

"Sir, yes sir," she quietly exhaled as he turned away and moved to the center of the room.

"Now that I have gotten to know some of more special recruits, I now have one question to ask ALL of you," the man in the grey campaign hat looked at all of use, doing a slow 360 to get a better view of all of us, "How am I supposed to unfuck fifteen years in ten weeks?!"

Silence for the next few seconds, "This is a legitimate fucking question, maggots. Anyone going to answer?"

No one answered, "I'll give you some time to think about it in the meantime. Front leaning rest position until someone answeres, move!"

Luckily, we knew what that last command was, otherwise he would've smoked our asses again.

As we were on our hands and toes in a push-up position, I couldn't tell whether to be grateful that such a strict, hard-working officer such as this man would take the time to train us, or be absolutely fucking terrified for the exact same reason.

From what we can tell from this sadistic display that he had put on just now, my answer was becoming pretty obvious.

"Welcome to Atlas Academy, Privates," the Drill Instructor merely said as he pulled a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolded it, sitting down and waiting for this to end.

I remembered the Atlas conscription poster before I had signed up for this place: a picture of an Atlas Soldier holding a rifle over his shoulder, with a thumbs up pointed in the direction of the person reading said poster. Only this time, I saw the face of the young soldier replaced by the Staff Sergeant, holding an explosive in his right hand, and the thumbs-up replaced by a remote detonator.

Welcome to Atlas Academy indeed.

 **-oOo-**

 **One week earlier...**

I made my way down the corridor of the Airship, watching as Atlesian Bots and soldiers watched my every move. My cane held in my right hand, and my gun holstered on the back of my belt.

For the past two months, I've had to spend time Grimm Hunting with Qrow. I won't say that it wasn't boring, but it can get _too_ repetitive after you've had to go to the same place FIFTY-FUCKING TIMES TO CHECK IF THOSE DAMN DEATHSTALKERS WOULD STOP SPAWNING IN THEIR FUCKING NESTS!

What was I saying? Oh right, so Qrow decided that my first mission alone wouldn't be about simply killing creatures of Grimm, oh no. That crazy drunk had a different idea in mind. After talking on his Scroll more than just several times with someone he refused to reveal the identity (saying that it was a surprise or something) of, even to me... ESPECIALLY to me.

"Come on, we're almost there," said the crazy drunk whom I have been talking about in my head earlier.

It was currently daytime, just an hour before sunset, so I had to make this quick.

And so I continued walking down the corridors, the soldiers probably eyeing me suspiciously from behind their masks, while the bots' all seeing visuals continued to survey all that stood in front of them. This ship is actually pretty big, though I've never been in an official Atlesian Dreadnought, well in my defense, this _was_ the first of it's kind, so it should be no surprise for anyone. Anyway, I probably been walking through the place nonstop for about... five? Maybe six minutes, before I came across someone... different.

Standing in front of the door ahead of me was a tall woman, most her hair wrapped in a tight behind her head while the rest covered her right eye. The woman was dressed completely in white, save for her legs and front portion of her uniform. At her side hung a dark-grey military sword.

"Halt!" she raised her voice at me. I raised an eyebrow underneath my shades, "What business do you have with the General?"

"He's with me, Winter," Qrow said behind me, raising his hands above and behind his head.

"Qrow..." she growled. Okay, now this seemed really interesting!

"Okay, this seems good, you two _actually_ know each other?" I pointed to the two of them, watching as Winter blushed slightly in anger, while Qrow gave the biggest shit-eating grin that even rivaled my own; and trust me, I am a self-proclaimed asshole.

It took me a few seconds of thinking and looking at each others' body language for it to click, "Oh. Oooooooohhhhhh... OOOOOOOOOOOHHHH! Holy shit, Qrow, you didn't!"

"I did, kid, I did."

"It was just... one time," Winter grit her teeth and spoke quietly to the man and, from what I can tell, she had completely ignored me.

"Damn right, and it was preeeeeetty good," his grin grew even wider.

This man... no, this legend, had the balls to do what should've been physically impossible, at least, according to Winter Schnee's records that Zeta had generously shared with me.

Qrow was no man, he was a god- no, a titan among men.

I couldn't help but literally salute the man in front of me for surviving on the front lines of this woman's front.

 _'Ooooooohh myyyyyy,'_ said my inner George Takei.

"Anyway, the ol' General said that he was to speak with me and my buddy here," he grabbed my shoulder and shook it, only for me to elbow him in the side once more.

She glared at the both of us before turning to me with an almost sympathetic look, emphasis on the 'almost', "I hope he hasn't given you too much trouble."

"You have no idea. Anyway, are you going to let us through?"

"If they are orders from the General himself, then go ahead," Winter nodded and proceeded to open the door for the both of us, while giving the drunken man behind me a glare as he winked teasingly at her.

I was then greeted by a rather large office, and I was talking 'President-of-the-United-States'-room-with-one-desk-some-furniture-and-nothing-else' big. I surveyed the area: white and shiny futuristic looking setting, typical Atlas, other than that, the place itself was immaculate.

From the other side of the room stood Ironwood, standing opposite from us and facing outside, staring out at the Kingdom from afar.

"Hey James, you still gonna gaze ominously at the place, or are you gonna actually greet us?" Qrow stepped in front of me and spoke to the man, watching as he then turned around to face us. As soon as he turned, that's when I saw it; this guy just screamed 'model American', like something out of a Cold War patriotic movie. His hair black with grey streaks across it, his face giving off an authoritative expression as he looked at the both of us. He wore a white uniform over a grey dress shirt and red tie; over his right hand was a white glove.

Something seemed off to me, _'Omicron, I'll need a bio-scan of Ironwood.'_

 ** _"On it... well, now that IS interesting,"_** Omicron said, breaking his usually monotone speech, _ **"Almost literally half of his body is cybernetic, save for anything above the neck, though there are a few implants in his brain, similarly to yours, but it seems that they function to maintain whatever was lost in what happened to him, rather than improve what is already there."**_ **  
**

 _'What about Zeta, what did she find?'_

 ** _"NOW you wanna know about what I found?! Nearly two months pass and-"_**

 _'I forgot about it, Casper the bitchy ghost.'_

 ** _"Fine, alright, okay. Something called Project P.E.N.N.Y. and N.I.C.K.E.L.. The latter seems like a precursor, a beta of some sorts, while the former is the full project. I tried to delve deeper into it, but the Security systems found me."_**

 _'Did you get out before they could notice anything?'_

 ** _"Of course, I left a ghost-copy, they won't be able to trace it back to us."_**

Ugh, ghost-copies. Why was I so disgusted with these? Well, when I tried to find something to compare it to at some point, the closest it could come to was when an animal was caught by a predator, it would sever part of it's own body to let it get away, giving it time to regrow that lost limb and continue to survive. On a technological comparison, that's exactly what Zeta did.

 _'Good, see if you can find anything else."_

 ** _"On it,_ _boss,"_** the two AI logged off. **  
**

"Of course, Qrow," he said, walking over to his desk and pulling out a bottle filled with what can only be what I assumed was alcohol. I watched as he poured the liquid into two separate glasses before handing one to Qrow while holding the other in his left hand. I raised an eyebrow at him before pulling out my own flask of whiskey and drinking it, he held a concerned look on his face as I did this. It's weird, now that I'm a kid again, I always receive weird looks such as this, oh well.

"So this was the one you were telling me about, Qrow?" he said, eyeing me with that cold, hardened gaze of his.

"Mm hmm, this is the Staff Sergeant I was tellin' you about," Qrow nodded. You sneaky bastard, Ozpin, you actually told Qrow about me. This seemed ironic, given that Ozpin actually decided to call bullshit on my actual background.

Ironwood looked at me with an appalled look before looking up at Qrow, "This is the person you described with military experience? I expected someone more... unerring."

I turned to look at Qrow, "Now why exactly did you really bring me here, Qrow? Besides taking a little tour with meeting the leader of Atlas?"

"Ozpin said that you needed to go on some of your own missions, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded, giving the red-eyed man the stink-eye.

"Well, you're getting a job. Specifically, one with Atlas Academy."

I cocked up an eyebrow at him and gave him a cold look before nodding a looking at him, "Alright."

Qrow looked at me in surprise, "Really? I thought it would be harder to convince you."

"Nah, I'm actually fine with all this."

Meanwhile, inside my head, _'You motherfucker, the next time you sleep, I'm slicing your throat with barbed wire and drowning you in a mix of Hydrogen Peroxide and lemon juice, you fucking dirty piece of drunken shit.'_

 ** _"Ahem... Eddy, we're right_ _here,"_** Zeta gulped as she heard my thoughts. **  
**

_**"Indeed, that was rather... descriptive."**_

 _'Zero shits given, Zeta, leave.'_

 _ **"Dick,"**_ she mumbled before both of them finally shut off.

"Ahem," we both heard Ironwood clear his throat, "Qrow, I think it's about time you leave now."

The black-haired Huntsman frowned for a second before downing his drink and setting it on the table, "Alright then, see ya later, Jimmy."

"It's General Ironwood," he corrected with a slight scowl on his face, only for the both of us to watch as he turned around and waved as he walked away. Winter grimaced at him for an almost unnoticeable split-second before resuming her post.

I turned back to face the General, who now had a more relaxed look on his face, more than likely because Qrow was gone, "So, from what Qrow has told me, Ozpin sent you to Atlas for... special training."

"Did he also tell you about 'special story'?" I leaned back in my chair as I awaited his response.

"About how you're from a different world? I don't believe it for one second," the General said in what could be described as near-condescending, but it was hard to get a read on this man, "But I trust Qrow's judgement on people-"

"And not his judgement on alcohol?" I spoke up.

"Precisely. From what he says, he knows everybody to some extent," he raised the glass to his lips and drank from it, washing down the more-than-possibly alcohol before setting it down, "So if he trusts you, then I see no reason not to do the same."

I nodded at his explanation, "So what would you have me do?"

"Qrow explained that you had a military background, is that correct?" Ironwood asked.

Another nod, "Yeah, Staff Sergeant; Second Battalion, Twenty-Ninth Marines in Massachusetts, we were called the 'Witch Hunters'. Served as the Field Medic in another. Now? Well, I'm here now. I don't expect you to believe a single thing I'm saying, but... well, it's your decision." I looked at the General to see that he was holding a look of fascination on his face.

I still continued to look at that undecipherable expression, "Well, are we going to continue sitting here, looking at one another?"

"Well," he opened a file cabinet beside him, brushing his fingers across the peach-colored files before pulling one out, laying it flat on the desk, and opening it, "Fortunately, I do have a job for you."

"Well, let's here it then," I drank from my flask of whiskey again before returning it to the pouch on my belt.

"Recently, one of our instructors had an unfortunate incident while fighting a Deathstalker. He broke his leg, cracked several ribs, and is currently suffering from bruised organs. He'll make a recovery, but we need a substitute to help train the new students for the upcoming school year."

This actually piqued my interest, "What exactly would his job have been before his little incident."

"He was assigned to be a Drill Instructor for the new students. I trust that you will have no trouble with this, should you take it under consideration," Ironwood explained, though a slight chill probably ran up his spine as he saw the wide, shark-like grin on my face.

I leaned further into my seat, "No trouble, General Ironwood. No trouble at all."

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, "Good, we'll contact you three days before the beginning of the School year."

We both stood up and shook each other's hands in confirmation, "I look forward to it, General."

"Of course, goodbye, Sergeant."

Whether I decided to mock the man or actually give my respects, I had no idea, but I saluted the man in a clear and straightforward military stance, "Sir, yes sir.

I turned on my heels and walked away, I heard a faint whisper, but I managed to catch it anyway, making my smile grow even wider, "Dear God, what have I done?"

The door opened to reveal Qrow on the other side of the corridor, I looked at Winter, who still held that cold look on her face, before turning away and catching up with the man ahead of me.

"I trust that 'ol metalhead didn't give you too much trouble?"

"Nope, I think I actually got on his good side."

Qrow rolled his eyes and continued to walk away, "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

The Huntsmen beside me didn't seem to care about that fact that I was about to start my own mission alone, I had only one final thought in my head before we left.

 _'Time for me to brush up on my R. Lee Ermey impression,'_ I thought.

 _ **"Oh no,"**_ both AIs thought.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: There we go, the newest chapter to the Gunman, hope you guys liked it.**

 **Now onto the current subject at hand: the last few chapters of RWBY Volume 3.**

 **After watching the newest episodes, I noticed several things that seemed to run parallel with THIS story in particular that seemed extremely frightening and awesome at the same time:**

 **-Eddy's Birthplace: _Salem_ , Massachusetts (this was a complete coincidence on my part, but HOLY SHIT was it huge!). I guess that could be a second reason why Ozpin decided to recruit him. **

**-Ozpin's super speed when he and Cinder fought AND when Eddy sparred against him in this story.**

 **-Third, the most off-putting: the pairing between Yang and Eddy I have planned, and Chapter 11 of RWBY Volume 3. Specifically when (spoilers) Yang loses her arm, this obviously shocked me like the rest of you, but it scare me that she lost her right forearm, while Eddy has a prosthetic left hand. Left and right, coincidence?! I... don't even know at this point. I guess you can say their fates go... arm-in-arm (*BADUMTSS!* I'll go now...) !**

 **All that I have listed is complete coincidence from my side, but the fact that these points actually exist seems mind-boggling to me. If you are surprised, then the feeling is mutual.**

 **Did I shamelessly rip off Full Metal Jacket? Why yes I did, and I. Regret. NOTHING!**

 **Alright then, keep an eye out for the next chapter of this story and I'll see you guys later.**

 **And as always, stay beautiful, ladies and gents.**


	6. Chapter 6: Salutations

**Q &A: **

**TheMysteriousOtaku:** **Thank you, it's nice to see that someone enjoys my work.**

 **NinjaWolf82: *smiles broadly* Is this new one good enough? **

**Goose tea** **m** **6: All right then, here you go. **

**Uscjoey: I knew people'd get 'em. FMJ is a cult classic in my heart and I knew people would absolutely love it. **

**guest:** **Well I-... wait a minute *happy smile fades, more concerned expression takes root*... this is quite peculiar, this comment has nothing to do with THIS story in particular. Ahem, good sir, since I am in a good mood today, may I kindly ask you to use comments that pertain to the specific story, I am able to read comments on stories that haven't been updated.**

 **This is strike two since someone posted a comment on a story that has nothing to do with the subject. Now, you have one more strike before I must resort to becoming, excuse my language, _pissed off._ I am quite familiar with cursing, and I often use it, but in the Gunman, it's more reserved for Eddy. **

**Now if you'll excuse me, thank you.**

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** **Hello everybody, I'm back with another chapter of the Gunman.**

 **Some of you may be wondering, "B-but Roach, why didn't you upload any of your other stories?"**

 **I'll answer your question, my figment of my imagination who is pretending to be some of the reviewers who love my other stories. My honest answer? I fell in love with this story, and want to see it through to the end. I've got everything planned out; the plot, the plot twists, the romance (for the lads and ladies who like to see honest pairings), the action (for the lads and ladies who just want a good fight. And trust me, I'm more than exceptional at writing these in most of my other works), and the good ol' fashioned comedy that Eddy is starting to develop.**

 **For those that don't know (which is the majority of you guys, so I just want to make it clear), Eddy is NOT a self-insert. He and I are complete and polar opposites: in personality, in looks, and... ahem, habits. I just like to write in first-person because Eddy will be the one who's eyes we'll be seeing through most of the time, unless it's some of my other characters, which I will remind that we're seeing through this particular person so no one gets confused; if it's another character which exists canonically, then they're told in third-person perspective. Also, first-person narration is new to me, and I'm just warming up.**

 **Also, for those that think that me getting unhealthily obsessed with this story, well... I'm not, just my character, Eddy. I had him planned out from the start, the character, the personality, the backstory, all of it. I just needed a fictional universe to throw this guy in, then I discovered the one and only: RWBY. I watched it, I loved it, then I thought, deciding whether or not to let this show be his setting, so I finally came to a conclusion with "Fuck it, this story is beautiful, the people who made it are awesome already, so let's do this."**

 **I'm seeing the results, and I love it.**

 **Besides, Eddy will be getting his own original story in a book I may or may not be writing, I'm debating on it. A prequel of some sorts, with this story being a sequel, with this more than likely being non-canon.**

 **Anyway, enough of me rambling, let's get onto the story.**

 **Once more unto the breach! AD VICTORIAM!**

 **PS: The following chapter takes place after Eddy's introduction to Atlas Academy both a month in, another month after, and a week before leaving.**

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY, just my OCs.**

* * *

 **-Chapter 6: Salutations-**

I couldn't tell which was more satisfying: the fact that I was scaring the shit out of these kids with my act, or the fact that I had no idea I could pull off a perfect impression of R. Lee Ermey. Honestly, I couldn't even tell, I was too much in the zone to even be caring at this point.

 **"Omi?"** Zeta whispered to her fellow AI inside my head.

 _ **"Yes, Zeta?"**_

 _ **"We should never give Eddy this much power. Ever. Again." **_

_**"I know, Zeta. I know,"**_ he replied calmly as they almost seemed concerned for the stability of my mental health.

Their responses only caused my grin to grow even wider. This was just too much fun!

For the first month, it's just been me and a basket filled with verbal hot lead that I was ready to spout at anyone who slipped up even once. This usually consisted of people who failed to follow a simple instruction, performed PT incorrectly, or, my favorite, direct insubordination. When any of these came into effect, that's when I acted; getting up in their faces and scaring them until one could almost smell the shit flowing down their leg and out their pants. Good thing Atlas military uniforms sport dark colors, haha!

 _ **"Oh my God,"**_ Zeta mumbled, more than likely annoyed with my antics.

Luckily, they learned pretty quickly so they could avoid the fiery wrath that was my voice, the creator of verbal abuse so bad, it would make several Grimm within the vicinity shit themselves and turn tail, crying from the amount of shit-speaking that I laid out in front of them.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, anyway, each of my victi- er, I mean students, were beginning to work better at an... acceptable pace, falling just short between the physical and mental capacity of koala and retarded koala. Then there was Trey Pallor; holy fuck was this kid a real piece of work. This kid was just new to the whole academy shenanigans like every other air-headed cadet in the school, the only difference was that this kid decided to follow his own agenda based on his moral standing rather than just following orders.

Jesus Christ. I mean, just follow directions, and I don't have to yell at you. Is that really too much to ask? You can bitch about and be as fucking maverick as you want AFTER your training, but does this kid really want me to make his life a living hell? 'Cause that's how you make someone's life a living hell: getting _me_ involved in something.

Besides this kid, I have the majority of the Atlas staff running scared of me because of a ballsy move that I decided to pull on them. Well, it wasn't _exactly_ ballsy, given that all I required was a few convincing materials, a bit of a theatrical show, and _voila!_ You successfully made an entire platoon of Atlas soldiers shit themselves after pulling off the most disgusting and badass move that anyone on this planet could ever witness.

What was it? Some people may ask. Well, it would be pretty boring if I had to summarize it for those that are listening, so why not just explain the little tidbit of entertainment and make it all the more hilarious? Sounds good to me.

At first, I thought my time in Atlas couldn't get any more interesting. Just when I was thinking that, I was walking to a shop to buy a gift for Coco and send it to her for her birthday, then something rather... unexpected happened, to put it lightly.

 **-oOo-**

 _ **"Just make a left and you should be there. You got this, right?"**_ Zeta asked as I began to park the car in the parking lot.

"Yeah, I'm good, just a little iffy with the driving," I grunted as I slowly backed the car into it's location before parking it.

So after just a month in Atlas, I finally got a car; and like every other device on this planet, it runs on Dust. Everything seemed to run on Dust. My car? Dust. That toaster that you see when you walk into the Remnant equivalent of Wal-Mart? Dust. Your mother's vibrator? More than likely Dust, unless it runs on her 'love sauce' if you catch my meaning.

Not only that being the concern of the day for me, there was something that irked me in this world. This place is by far the most futuristic place I have ever seen. Flying battleships, laser-shooting rifles (even if it's still just Dust), robots guarding every street, surveying the place and making it safe. It was like something out of a George Orwell nightmare.

So why, in a futuristic Kingdom such as this, did Atlas, or even Remnant for that matter, still rely on stick shift for their cars?! Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with either manual or automatic as I was proficient in both forms of driving, and I am certainly able to work with a car such as this, but what bugs me is that automatic seems nonexistent, and I'm so used to seeing it all the time on some of the other cars that I used to own.

 _ **"Maybe they are more focused on fighting the Grimm, so they forget to develop different forms of automobile transportation like what you have been talking about earlier, or maybe they are just too busy to focus on things like that,"** _ Omicron explained to me.

"Ugh, I hate it when you're right, Omi."

 ** _"I do my best, sir."_**

Alright, enough of my rambling. I continued to open the door and step out of the car, standing up as I pulled myself out, then began walking to my destination, which just so happened to be a few meters away.

I walked past a few cars, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I inspected the 'clothes' that I was wearing, which was only my NanoSkin in it's many urban disguises: every article of clothing was at most a shade of grey; the wide-brim hat, the leather jacket, the jeans, shoes, gloves, even the shades that I was always seen with. All of it was grey.

That color bug really needed to be fixed or I was going to be seriously pissed. In the meantime, however, I at least had some of the more entertaining modifications to my suit to use. I fished out my Scroll from one of my pockets and dug my other hand into the alternate pocket, pulling out a pair of earbuds, which just so happened to be grey.

The modification? The ability to export and import information from the suit to a device, and vice versa. Yeah, this was something _**I**_ added, mostly because this suit was used only for frontlines-warfare, nothing else.

 _'Zeta? How about a little music?'_

 ** _"Any preferences?"_**

 _'You know me better than that.'_

 ** _"Alright, none whatsoever. I'll just set it to random, and... now."_**

As soon as the words left her, music started playing as I continued to make my way towards the little shop in front of me. A guitar started off and continued as I entered inside.

I was greeted by an old, grey-haired shopkeeper that stood behind the counter in front of me. I quickly paused the music so I could converse with the man.

"Hello sir, welcome to _The_ _Beholder,"_ he greeted, to which I answered back with a quick nod, "Is there anything you need specifically?"

"Hmm... actually, yes; I'm looking for something to buy for my girlfriend, it's her birthday today and I wanted to get her something special. Could use some help with finding the right gift."

"Certainly, my good fellow. May I ask who she is?"

"Her name's Coco Adel," I answered before pulling out my Scroll, pulling up the pictures application, and showing the man a picture showing me and her in one of the photos. It was a picture of her holding her minigun in one hand while I was standing beside her, her arm around my shoulders, while mine was around her waist.

"Oh, a Huntress? Now that is interesting. Give me a minute, I might have something that could work. Hold on for just a minute," the man said before turning around and walking away. He appeared minutes later with a small, rectangular black box in his hand.

I watched as he then walked back behind the counter and placed it in front of me before opening it. Inside was a necklace laid in an oval-shaped fashion inside the box. It was at this point when I noticed the black beads that made up the decoration of the necklace, "Are these...?"

"Mistralian black pearls, pulled out from the oceans of Mistral itself. You can tell these are real from the small brown flecks across each individual pearl," he pointed to them, "No amount of scrubbing can remove these, which is how you can tell a real one from a fake. What do you think?"

I looked down at it, "May I?"

 _ **"Wow, look at you, you're actually acting civilized!"**_ Zeta gasped.

 _'Shut the fuck up.'_

 ** _"But I-"_**

 _'Zeta, initiate temporary shutdown; approximately five minutes. Authorization code: Alpha 7 3 Tempest.'_

 ** _"Acknowledged. Authorization code successful, shutting down now."_**

 _'Works like a charm... though she'll probably hate me after she wakes up.'_

"Of course," the man replied. I lowered my hand towards the necklace and stopped for a minute, almost as though it had grown a pair of teeth, but I picked it up immediately after. I looked at the pearls that made up the piece of jewelry before setting it back where it once was.

"Yeah, it'll do just fine," I nodded.

The shopkeeper clapped his hands together, "Splendid. Would you like me to bag this?"

I shrugged my shoulders and nodded, "Sure."

"Alright, give me a moment and I'll-"

The door behind me suddenly chimed, I turned to see a girl walking towards me. I raised an eyebrow as I continued to look at her. This girl had dark brown skin and wore a short brown top with flat brown shoes, she was also wearing... chaps? Eh, I've seen weirder.

Then there was the more distinguishing features on this girl, and no, I'm not talking about this chick's rack... but that didn't mean that I wasn't looking at them (one of the many advantages of wearing sunglasses). No, instead it was both the mint green hair that was tied back in a ponytail, and the pair of bright red eyes that adorned her face.

"What're you looking at?" she demanded. Shit, I guess she caught me staring for too long.

"You," I answered, rolling my eyes as I answered in the most blunt way possible.

I watched as a slight glare began to spread across her expression before she turned and looked at the shopkeeper, who was currently in the middle of selling me Coco's gift.

"Hello, miss. Welcome to _The Beholder_. Is there anything you need specifically?" the jeweler/shopkeeper turned and looked at the girl.

"No, I'm just looking around," she answered.

"Well, if I may satiate your curiosity," he then turned to look at me, "Hold on for just a moment."

I rolled my eyes once more underneath my sunglasses, it seems this girl is just _begging_ to waste my time. So I answered with a grunt before crossing my arms and looking around the shop.

 _'Omicron, play music.'_

 ** _"Acknowledged,"_** he said as the music returned seconds later.

I continued to inspect the place, looking at the vast majority of jewelry, gems, and a wide assortment of objects seemingly covered all four corners of the store, as both the music played in my head and the shopkeeper disappeared into a door in his shop. I grinned slightly as I recognized the music playing, the guitar continued to play before I heard the singer.

 _"~I was walkin' down the street when out the corner of my eye, I saw a pretty little thing approaching me.~"_

The man returned with a small, black cube of a box. The girl beside me had a confused look on her face before the shopkeeper opened it up to reveal a small golden ring.

"A beautiful ring, for a beautiful woman," the shopkeeper said, holding the ring in the center of his palm for the girl beside me to see. I turned to see the surprised look on her face as the man continued to hold it out for her.

"I'm sorry?" she looked at the man with a look of concern on her face. The shopkeeper only smiled.

 _"~She said, 'I never seen a man who looks so all alone, could you use a little company?'~"_

"It's one of my best, meant for one as lovely as yourself. For a reasonable price, this little jewel can be yours," he explained.

The girl looked up in thought, "How much?"

 _"~'If you pay the right price, your evening will be nice, and you can go and send me on my way.'~"_

"Four-hundred Lien," the man answered immediately after the words left her mouth.

She raised an eyebrow before shaking her head slowly, "I-I'm sorry, I don't think I have that kind of money."

 _"~I said, 'You're such a sweet young thing, why'd you do this to yourself?' She looked at me and this is what she said.~"_

Then she proceeded to do one of the most surprising things that I have seen. This girl's bright red eyes focused on the man for just a second before she reached over and plucked it from his hand, the old man continued to smile as she did this. She then looked at me with what can only be described as a frightened look on her face before turning tail and sprinting away.

 _"~'Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked, money don't grow on trees. I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed, there ain't nothin' in this world for free'~"_

The man continued to smile before it suddenly turned to confusion, he then looked down at his hand to see that the ring that it held was now missing, "What! Impossible! What did-!"

He looked up to see the girl sprinting on the sidewalk, running in the opposite direction from the shop. From across the street, I spotted another young woman with ash-grey hair and orange eyes... grinning at the sight, before walking away.

 _"~'I know I can't slow down I can't hold back, though you know I wish I could.'~"_

"Somebody stop her!" the shopkeeper yelled as he exited his own shop and yelled to one of the security robots patrolling the streets. Fortunately for him, some of them responded to his distress.

"She went that way!" he yelled before the robots nodded and took off, their rifles swinging in their arms as they ran off.

I looked back as the shopkeeper disappeared from my view. Looking at the box in front of me, the one that housed the necklace, I grabbed ahold of it and turned it over, looking at the price: six-hundred. Eh, I could pair for this. I pulled out my walled and set down six hundred-based Lien on the counter before grabbing the box and walking away... what? She was doing it! I may as well do something that's probably more legal than what she's doing.

Walking to the car with the box in my arm, I opened the door and set it on the passenger seat before starting the car and driving away. I had to get back to Qrow anyway, the drunken bastard's actually expecting me, not that I really cared. Well, besides that, there was my job as a temporary Drill Instructor, which I was getting paid for.

As the car continued to pass through the highway, I continued to nod my head to the last few lyrics of the song as it continued to play as I drove on.

 _"~'Oh no, there ain't no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good.'~"_

 **-oOo-**

Speaking of being a Drill Instructor, it was one of the most entertaining jobs I've ever had the honor of performing. I've been a drill instructor before back on Earth, but that job pales in comparison to the job that I'm performing now. The people that I worked with back then were older, experienced, they knew what they were getting into the moment that they decided to enlist into whichever field in the military.

But these kids? _'Full Metal Jacket'_ doesn't exist on this world/universe/plane of existence/whatever, adding the fact that they are younger, and being the required age is mandatory if you plan on becoming either a member of the Atlas Military or a Huntsman, so that generally meant that they were more inexperienced. But I made sure that I didn't act too harshly on them, more so for me because I don't want this world's version of Gomer Pyle nailing me in the chest with his/her boomstick.

But enough of me rambling, now where was I? Oh yeah, so I've been doing this for about more than two months, just one more week of training these kids and the original instructor takes my place. So I might as well recount a few of my... misadventures before I take my leave.

Let's start now, shall we? So about a month into my job as the round-not-so-brown hat wearing, shark-lipped badass that I was, after more than four weeks, I had to introduce the newest line of Atlesian Service rifles, since the older ones had a tendency to jam, despite the fact that this was a damn futuristic kingdom, possibly more advanced than all the others put together. THERE WERE EVEN ROBOTS, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

Am I ranting again? Shit. Anyways, here I was, introducing the new line of rifles to their next owners: the next line of students at Atlas Academy.

 _"This!" I said, holding up a rifle by the barrel, making sure that the safety was off and it was completely empty, so there weren't any unfortunate accidents... for the students, I mean, "Is the SDC-150D Atlesian Service Rifle, holds up to a minimum of twenty-five 9.5 x 40mm rounds; capable of firing in full-automatic, semi-automatic, and burst fire. Without an Aura, these are guaranteed to kill you. This is the 'jack of all trades' of rifles in regards to it's customization for a unit's specialty on the field, be it fighting against either human, faunus, or Grimm."_

 _I looked down at the students below me, as I was currently standing on a stage, a long line of rifles neatly lined up behind me vertically, pointed up at the ceiling. The rifles were colored white, with a neutral shade of grey. A mid-sized barrel in a rectangular shape, on top was a set of iron sights, while the back held a detachable/foldable stock._

 _"Before any of you shit-brained knuckleheads even think about making your own weapons, you will learn to use these! This will be your new best friend, your new ally, fighting alongside you with your brothers and sisters on the battlefield," I continued to bark at them in my best R. Lee Ermey impression, "But in your barracks, these'll be your new lovers."_

 _They all turned to each other with confused glances and murmured amongst one another, while some of them blushed as they looked at me._

 _"Tonight," I began to explain, "You will sleep with your rifles. You will give your rifles a name of the opposite sex, because this gun is the only piece of ass you'll ever get for the next month."_

 _I continued to explain, motioning to the butt of the rifle that I was holding, blatantly pointing out the innuendo that I had just made, "Your days of screwing the next thing you see due to your hormone-fueled fuck-brains are over. You are officially married to your rifle, this weapon of metal and Dust, and you will be faithful to it. Do I make myself clear?"_

 _"Sir, yes sir!" they yelled_

For the next few days, I had to oversee several new different subjects in the form of their new firearms: marksmanship practice against targets and testing dummies, disassembly and reassembly of their rifles to get used to knowing their weapons inside and out, no innuendo intended.

The training would usually consist of me making Drill Instructor-like remarks, given that I actually am a Drill Instructor.

It was at this moment, with all my talent with shaping these kids up into what I called 'Atlas Soldiers: The American Edition', I realized that there were, when I woke up one morning and looked at myself in the mirror, two bad motherfuckers on this planet, and on Earth...

And I was both of them...

 _"That gun's trigger ain't a dick, quick jerking it!" I yelled at Private Katt, who was a little too trigger happy with her new rifle. She paused for a split-second, blushed, then responded with a 'sir, yes sir!' before resuming her training, albeit at a slower pace. This was training after all, not competition._

 _"Jesus H. Christ, Private Softie. You look like you shaved with a bowl of milk and Private Katt on her period," was the usual response when Private Pallor rushed in shaving his face during his time in the academy. Though, "Christ, Private! You look like the afterbirth of a clusterfuck!" was also an acceptable response. Though a person's hygiene habits were none of my business, I refused to look at someone who deliberately tries to look like shit._

 _"I don't care if a Nevermore is face-fucking you, Private, you don't move at the position of attention. You let the fucking bird finish, goddammit," when someone makes an ALMOST unnoticeable move during the position of attention._

 _When I wanted someone to know that they are completely incapable of impressing me (it was usually Private Pallor), "Private, I bet that every once in a while, a soldier comes through here that gives me a glimmer of hope for this world's future. You are not that Private. As a matter of fact, I die a little inside each time you attempt a task."_

 _I can be a little too... enthusiastic with my job when I made the Cadets do PT, though that word is a trait that I should NOT be possessing, "When you're done with this, you're gonna be so ripped, your nipples are gonna have six-packs!"_

 _But there were those that were... less enthusiastic, so I had to remind them with a small quote that I had picked up through the years, "Life is like a box of chocolates, Private, it lasts longer if you're not fat."_

 _When I wanted them to take part in cleaning the barracks, "Who here knows how to drive stick?" A student then raised their hand, and I responded by giving them a mop and replying, "Outstanding! Drive this around the floor until you could feed a family of five on it."_

 _I even tried teaching them that it's rude to stare, "Privates, y'all have been eye-fucking me so much lately, I think there may be a possibility that I may be fucking pregnant."_

 _There was probably a kid even crying after his time in training, "Are you crying? Please keep crying, I like to lick the tears off of Privates' faces... it sustains me..."_

 _Though I tried to convince them that it's not okay to cry when I'm around, "If you're looking for sympathy, you can find it in the dictionary between 'shit' and 'syphilis', where it belongs."_

 _"Sir?"_

 _Luckily, I got the approval (don't ask how, I just did) to make those gas chambers meant to build resistance against things such as Tear Gas (or at least the Remnant equivalent of tear gas) or just raw o-chlorobenzylidene malononitrile, which had even better effects... and holy shit was it hilarious! I stood in the center, dropping about... fifteen? Twenty pellets onto the pan and let it do it's job of making every airbreather's life a living hell. I had about a dozen or so students thinking that they were suffocating from the experience._

 _"Sir?"_

 _I remember when I had to enter the chamber, especially what my old Drill Instructor told me, "You think this is bad, Private Winslow? This shit's just the foreplay, the real stuff is right after," he had said, dropping almost a few dozen pellets and watched as me and the rest of the men around me attempted to breathe through the painful gas that made us feel like we were dying._

 ** _"Sir?"_**

 _And just soon after that would be more PT, then followed by a small speech by yours truly, "-_

 ** _"Sir, Sergeant Winslow, sir!"_**

I snapped out of my large bout of memories that had passed through for the past two months then turned to look at the source of the voice that had interrupted my train of thought, which just so happened to be Private Soleil of all people. I then focused my attention to where I was now, it was a large rectangular room, the walls lined with neon blue geometric shapes, while there was a small arena-like area in the center of the room. The students stood against the wall at the position of attention, their weapons held in various places such as holsters, their chest, back, hip, etc.

Oh right, it was my last week as a Drill Instructor and the students took the time to put together their own weapons, as from the request from orders from the higher-ups, AKA the Atlesian Officers on handjob duty with the Remnant Council, those smug bastards.

"Out with it, Private," I ordered, the cadet in front of me managed not to flinch at my strict demeanor, which was actually saying something as most of the kids in here still haven't gotten used to my assimilation into this school.

"Sir, the students are ready for the Drill Instructor's orders, sir," she answered, which I then responded with a confused expression.

"Excuse me?"

"Sir... it seems that the Drill Instructor has forgotten why they ordered us here in the first place, sir," the blue-bereted girl thought out loud.

"Well, sweetheart, I believe a recap would be in order, wouldn't you think so, Private?" I replied harshly, my eye twitching in annoyance at the absurdity of this girl.

The effect was almost instantaneous, her arms locked to their sides, eyes widening in fright before saluting, "S-sir yes sir! Sir, The Drill Instructor had ordered us to meet in the training hall as per General Ironwood's orders. Our assignment was for the Drill Instructor to pair two people to fight against one another to practice with their new weapons... sir!"

It took me a while for her to register her words before shaking my head slightly... drinking a cocktail of blackberries, whiskey, and soda while trying to have a flashback should never mix, ever.

"If that's the case. Private Softie!" I yelled, watching as Pallor snapped to attention while the others tried to hold back any shit-eating grins from the nickname, otherwise if it was found out by me, they were going to have a bad time.

"Sir, yes sir!" they replied at the same time.

"Up on the stage with... Private Lapis," I finished my decision, watching as the two students saluted and walked onto the stage.

Kroam Lapis, silver hair, indigo eyes, one of the toughest students I had to train, I mean "tough" in the sense that this kid was durable, strong, but he had a fuse so short, I wonder why his damn jerkass issues aren't made with a grenade pin instead. If I had to explain "tough" in a way of being stubborn and harder to train, then that honor goes to Pallor, that kid has the mental endurance of a fallout bunker, I bet if I spilled napalm on his head, he wouldn't even notice.

Nevertheless, they were both... adept individuals, but I had to honestly say... I should've brought popcorn for this fight.

 _ **"I have to agree, this will seem rather fun,"**_ Omicron said with an almost amused voice, emphasis on the 'almost'.

 _'Now you guys decided to show up?'_

 ** _"Zeta is still... upset about the override code that you used against her."_**

 _'Well... shit.'_

 ** _"That is putting it lightly, sir,"_** Omicron replied.

 _'Zeta?'_

 ** _"..."_**

 _'Zeta, answer me...'_

 ** _"... no..."_**

 _'You technically just did.'_

 ** _"...Fuck... alright fine! I... I'll forgive you just this once, just don't assume that I'll be handing you free passes from here on out."_**

 _'Okay, that seems fair.'_

 ** _"Shut up."_**

 _'...Tsundere.'_

 ** _"EXCUSE ME!?"_**

 _'Win-win, you gave me the silent treatment, I bite back with a cold response, capiche?'_

 ** _"A-hole,"_** she grumbled before shutting off.

 ** _"Ahem, sir, if there is anything you need for this match-"_**

 _'You just want to watch. Don't you, Omicron?'_

 ** _"Why... yes, actually, I believe that observing what is to come might actually be quite fascinating, if you will allow me, that is."_**

I sighed internally, _'Fine.'_

 ** _"Thank you sir."_**

 _'Whatever.'_

Anyways, both stood on opposite ends of the arena, facing one another dead in the eye. Private Lapis brandished his own weapon: a broadsword that turned into a twelve-gauge semi-automatic shotgun. I honestly don't know what went through this boy's mind as he made this, but I can tell that he was more of the "up-close-and-personal" type. I watched as he began to load the weapon's ballistic form with what appeared to be... bean bag rounds? Well, it makes sense, given that this was training. But I also had to activated a transparent force field to protect the students and myself... but more for myself.

Again, it irked me that they possess a single weapon that carried two or more changeable forms, having to bring up the discussion in my head of losing a weapon on the field and forgetting to carry a sidearm and/or secondary.

 _'Note to self: order the students to carry a sidearm and/or back-up weapon from now on.'_

My M1911 pistol in my left holster almost felt heavier from that one thought, while my other weapons: the large rectangular-shaped pistol strapped to the back of my belt, and my cane-sword, which I had left at the hotel.

On the other side stood Trey Pallor, in his right hand was a... tonfa baton? The color was white with black streaks running horizontally across the shaft, with a small blue light running perpendicular with the thin black stripes. But what stuck out the most were the two curved panels that extended from the sides. While on his left was a buckler-sized rectangular white shield, giving off a sort of "riot control" look to him.

I then raised my eyebrows in surprise as he then did something rather... familiar? I think? Anyways, he gripped the weapon by it's perpendicular grip and swung it to his side, where the two panels/prongs/ whatever then moved with the swing and extended, bolts of electricity crossing and traveling between the two ends.

 _ **"Wait a minute, is that...?"**_ Omicron trailed off, apparently speechless from what all three of us had seen.

 _ **"I think it is,"**_ Zeta remarked.

 _'December 18th, 2015. I remember it like it was yesterday, heh,'_ I laughed internally before watching as they waited for me to begin the fight.

"Ready?" I asked, my Drill Instructor voice cracked for a split second, but nobody seemed to have notice, as they were paying attention to the two fighters that tensed up as they heard my voice.

"Don't blame me if you end up with broke bones, Pallor," Private Lapis sneered at him with that smug grin, giving his sword a few test swings as well as having it attempt to work as an intimidation factor.

"Let's see which'll break first: your ribs or your ego," Pallor responded with a deadpanned look on his face, bringing his shield closer and readying his electric baton, which was more than likely powered by, you name it, Dust.

"Begin!" I yelled, watching as the two cadets sprang into action.

Lapis acted first, with his broadsword held in both hands at his side, he sprinted and covered the empty gap between the two combatants. Pallor, on the other hand, stood his ground while steeling himself for what was to come. I was surprised to see that this insubordinate of a kid would actually be putting up a brave front at all, well, I really shouldn't be surprised given that he's actually disobeying orders in front of me of all people.

I'm thinking about it now and I can see why people love the underdogs in the large variety of movies where everyone thinks lowly of the presumably weaker character, then watches as he/she/it/whatever proceeded to beat the shit out of the bully/bad guy/rival/whatever. It's crossing my mind and making sense, and I hate it.

I watched as Private Pallor raised his shield to block the downward strike and retaliate with a side swing of his own, sending Lapis' arm flinching back from the electrical current. The silver-haired boy grit his teeth as he massaged his numb shoulder in an attempt to bring feeling back to his arm. I had to admit that I was a little impressed by how this just played out from the beginning. Metal conducts electricity, so Pallor is at an advantage.

"That only stings, Pallor, you'll have to do a lot better than that," Lapis scowled angrily.

"Good thing I'm getting warmed up, so let's cut to the chase."

Private Lapis then lifted his sword and shifted it into it's shotgun form before letting loose a round at Pallor, who blocked the majority of the shot with his shield, but buckled and fell to his knee after some of the shot hit him in the legs. He took this opportunity to transform his weapon to it's sword form, rush towards him, and attempt to cleave him with a downwards strike from his broadsword.

Before he knew it, Pallor quickly recovered, rolled out of the way until he was just a few feet away from Lapis, and pressed a button on his weapon before switching the position of his baton to where it was held like a rifle. A strange noise resonated from the tonfa before the panels retracted and began to overlap the barrel by shifting closer to one another. Finishing off with a set of iron sights and a firearm trigger popping out from the weapon. The transformation took less than two seconds, but I now knew what I was looking at. The newest Atlesian Service rifle, now re-outfitted into some kid's riot control gear.

I then watched out of curiosity as he then let loose a barrage of gunfire at Private Lapis, who was attempting to hold his ground as Dust bullets peppered across his body, forcing him to his knees. Pallor slowly began to tred across the stage, his rifle transforming back into it's baton form, watching as Lapis began to stand back up, his sword held weakly in both hands, pointed at his assailant.

"AGH!" Lapis roared as he charged one final time, stabbing at his opponent in futility before he stumbled forward. He then flew forward and onto his stomach as Pallor sidestepped and slammed the electric tonfa into his back, sending him sprawling across the floor.

 _'Well, cut off my ear and call me Evander Holyfield, he's actually winning?!'_

The silver-haired cadet immediately got back up and sucker-punched Pallor across the jaw without warning, deciding to drop his weapon and attempt to weave his way through the boy's attacks. He ducked under a heavy swing and delivered a solid kick below Pallor's knee, making him kneel once more. Pallor barely had enough time to raise his shield to block the attack, but he succeeded anyway.

Private Pallor attempted to swing his electric tonfa, but was stopped as Lapis caught it by the insulated end. At first, I thought that Pallor was fucked at this moment, but before he had the thought of pulling it away, he decided to take a more... direct approach, and by that, he immediately let go and dropped his shield before tackling his legs, forcing them both to the ground.

It was at this point when I thought that this fight was turning out to be pretty brutal, despite the fight that had happened earlier. Why, some might ask? Because Pallor climbed on top of Lapis and began straddle-punching him in the face repeatedly.

 _'Holy fuck,'_ I looked at the scene with a mixture of intrigue and disgust, but more for intrigue. This pales in comparison to what _I've_ done.

I continued to watch as Private Pallor continued to use his fists and smash this kid's face in repeatedly, well, that is if Aura was nonexistant in this world. Pallor held an expression not of rage or sadism, but of determination, that seemed to have boggled my mind even more. I looked up to see that Lapis' Aura was in the red, while Pallor was about to raise his fist one more time to punch this little bastard's lights out.

Before the Private could finish the job with him, he heard a voice.

"Both of you, enough!" they immediately froze at the sound.

That usually happens when a person hears me, regardless of what I sound like. Anyway, I continued to walk up the steps and look at the both of them, "Despite all I had seen beforehand, Private Pallor, you somehow managed to impress me, and for that, you earned a bit of my respect."

"As for you," I looked down at Private Lapis, who was in the process of standing back up, "Practice."

"Sir, yes sir!" they both responded, trying to resist glaring at one another from the outcome of the fight.

In that case, I decided to make things a little equal for them, "Regardless, I never gave you permission to speak freely in the midst of practice, and for that, you shall be punished. Both of you, on the ground and give me fifty!"

Their attempted glares were then directed towards me, while I visibly grinned smugly at the both of them.

"Sir, yes sir," they responded in a deadpanned voice before dropping down and giving me the exact quantity of push-ups.

As they continued, I turned to look at the rest of the students, who were failing to hide the bewilderment of Private Lapis' loss in the fight, or as I call it, a surprisingly unfair asskicking.

I glanced to the side to see Private Soleil watching Private Pallor continue his punishment, she had a shy and relieved smile on her face as she watched him, I looked back to see the boy grinning back at her. It took me a second for it to click in my head, but it seemed pretty obvious now.

 _'Jesus Christ, just shoot me now,'_ I groaned in my mind.

 _ **"Jesus wasn't the one that shot you though,"**_ Zeta pointed out.

 _'Go to Hell, Zeta. It's bad enough that I have to deal with a bunch of sexually-frustrated, weapon-wielding kids. Now I have to deal with a teachers' worst nightmare.'_

 ** _"And what might th_** ** _at_** ** _be?"_** Omicron asked.

 _'Teenage crushes,"_ I groaned internally.

 _ **"Well sorry to hear about you taking your compensating anger out on the students, but I didn't get come here just to talk. You have a missed call from Ironwood, he expects you on board his ship by the next hour."**_

I bit back a curse before looking at the students, "Class dismissed, training has been cancelled, get your shit and head to the Barracks. If I see anything misplaced, then I swear upon whatever you believe, you'll make peace with it once I'm finished with you."

The students nodded quickly before walking out of the training hall, Privates Pallor and Lapis finished their punishment and followed immediately after, their footsteps fading as I still stood in the now empty training hall.

All right, let's see what General Jarhead wants from me. I turned and walked towards the exit of the Academy, heading out and towards the nearest Bullhead that would take me to Ironwood's ship.

Despite my mean streak of pissing people off, it's best we don't keep that fascist bastard waiting.

 **-oOo-**

As soon as I stepped onto this creaking metal boat, I knew something was wrong.

No, there wasn't an ambush, no assassination attempt plotting against me, not traitorous backstabbing (which was actually a first for me). This wasn't a physical problem, it was mental.

More specifically, Zeta. My companion AI who had helped me survive throughout the years. Without her, I might be dead in a sewer tunnel, or worse, even before I landed in this crazy world. My symbiotic relationship between the two AIs was mutual, they sensed my emotions through thought process and were able to know when something was wrong with me. But on my end of our relationship? It comes in the form of gut feelings, nervous tics that I suddenly develop for no particular reason, that's how I know.

I tapped the side of my helmet, "Zeta? You alright?"

 ** _"Hmm? I'm fine, I'm just looking through the files on Projects PENNY and NICKEL, but there seems to be a problem,"_** she answered.

"All right, shoot."

 _ **"Heh, you're usually the one doing the shooting, Eddy. Okay, despite that little joke, here's the problem. Project NICKEL's files have been... redacted,"**_ Zeta explained, pulling up the files on my HUD.

"So? What's the problem?"

 _ **"They're gone, redacted, removed, expunged, deleted, crossed out with a fucking Sharpie, whatever you want to call it! The point is that they're just suddenly gone."**_

"What is 'Project NICKEL' anyway?"

 _ **"It's some sort of Atlesian experiment on Artificial Intelligence."**_

"So? They have robots that patrol the street and are run by AI. What's so special about this?"

 _ **"Because unlike the Atlesian robots, which is merely static AI, this takes a more... dynamic approach. Oh and, you're gonna want to start thinking this conversation instead, people are coming."**_

"Alright-" I paused as a pair of Atlesian soldiers walked around the corner and passed by me, nodding at me more out of fear than respect, to which I smirked and mockingly saluted at them.

 _'Continue.'_

 _ **"Atlas' Science Division is dealing with controlled sentience."**_

I nearly stumbled and fell as she finished her thought, luckily I caught myself just in time, _'WHAT!?'_

 ** _"I'll explain later, just talk with Ironwood and I'll see if I can piece together the information once I break into the PENNY project, alright?"_**

 _'Got it, try not to get caught again.'_

 ** _"Gotcha boss, Zeta out,"_** she said before logging out of my brain.

 _'I swear by everything holy, your constant presence in my head is going to give me a brain tumor or something.'_

 ** _"I heard that, besides, you're completely incapable of developing a malignant tumor, remember?"_**

 _'Oh right, well, uh... good for me... this is awkward. Fuck it, just get out and do your job.'_

 ** _"Done,"_** she finally disappeared.

I then found myself standing in front of the door to Ironwood's office. I quickly inhaled, straightened my Drill Instructor hat, and opened the door to see Ironwood sitting in his chair, an unopened bottle of alcohol sitting on the desk in front of him.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," he nodded at me with an emotionless expression.

"General, why have you called me here?" I asked, sitting down on the seat in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow before reaching for the bottle and opening it, proceeding to then pour the substance into a glass before pouring it into another, Ironwood then closed the bottle and handed me one of the cups, "I see you're straight to the point, so I might as well do the same."

I took the cup in my hands, feeling the weight of the light brown liquid in my synthetic left palm, "Aren't you at least a little unnerved by my drinking habits?"

The General scoffed, "Of course not, Ozpin told me that your mother let you drink at a younger age, so I might as well keep up that privilege."

"Smart man," I remarked before raising the glass to my lips and downing the entire think in only a matter of gulps, "Whew! Hmm, bourbon, I presume?"

"Only the best," a small grin played upon his lips before it disappeared, "Now, onto business."

I coughed into my fist before setting it down, "Lets."

"I have a mission for you."

"Oh," that actually caught me off guard, "What about my job?"

"Do not worry about it, that will be taken care of," he waved offhandedly, "Do you know what a retrieval mission is?"

"If I had to guess, it'd be that I find something and bring it back to it's rightful owner, right?"

Ironwood nodded slowly, "Ozpin was right, you are a quick learner."

"Is there anything that Ozpimp doesn't tell you?" I raised my eyebrow in concern.

"Ozpim-? Oh, very clever," he smirked slightly, "But yes, that's what it is?"

"I'll take it that's my job?" I asked, raising my hands until I had them resting under my chin in thought.

"Yes and no. You see, this kind of mission is more... unorthodox. You see, a certain individual decided to break out of the Atlas Science Division and I have done everything I could to get it- my bad- _him,_ back," he answered.

 _'Oh shit,'_ it took me a while to find out where this was heading, "So this is essentially a bounty mission as well?"

He moved his head slowly from side to side, more in a way as the sides of his head gravitated towards either of his shoulders, "One might see it in that way."

"And who might I be finding?" I watched as he pursed his lips in thought, as though trying to find out the right answer to my question... or trying to find a way to make this seem less enigmatic, either way, I'll get my answer. I poured another glass and held it to my lips as I started to drink more from it.

"You'll know him when you see him, he answers to the name, 'Nick'," Ironwood explained. I did my best not to choke on my drink, though a few bubbles were made from the liquid as I suddenly coughed.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Now are we dealing with a person, Ironwood, or a dog?" I smirked at his previous response.

"Very funny, but this is a serious matter, your acquisition is a very high-valued person, and it would be in your best interest to find him."

 _'Zeta! Show me what you found, Ironwood here's giving me some intel on this NICKEL subject.'_

"And why choose me for this mission?"

"Oh, you weren't the first, we tried having many Atlas military personnel search for Nick, but to no avail. So I decided to use an... outside source," he answered.

 ** _"Alright, got it. At first, their idea for NICKEL was to create an Artificial Intelligence capable of being passed off as a human being, then uploading that intelligence into a synthetic body, but at the time, their AI was dumber than a box of rocks. But sometime ago, they suddenly made a leap in technology and decided to upload two experimental AI into two different bodies."_**

"And so you considered me, am I correct?"

 _ **"Luckily, I found a way past the security walls involving Project PENNY and I found... wait a minute."**_

"Yes, from what Qrow and Ozpin told me, you are extraordinarily talented when it comes to learning on your feet, so I think that you are my best alternative," Ironwood explained.

 _'Extraordinarily talented when it comes to learning on my feet? Pfft, tell that to Glynda, she'd laugh at that!'_

 ** _"T-there's something wrong, one of the defenses actually found me, but it's not doing anything. It's just... looking at me."_**

 _'Zeta, get out of there now.'_

 ** _"It's attempting to communicate with me, this one's intelligent!"_**

 _'I said get out of there now!'_

"So my question is, Sergeant Winslow,, will you undertake this mission to retrieve Nick?"

 _'Zeta?'_

I only received silence.

 _'Zeta, are you there?'_

Still silence.

Despite my worrying, I looked up at Ironwood with a mask of determination, "Yes, I'll do it."

He smiled, this time showing complete visibility, "Good man. He may look a bit, unnerving, but I can assure you, he's harmless."

Ironwood poured himself a glass of bourbon, "When you have successfully retrieved him, come see me again. You are dismissed."

I stood up from my seat and saluted before turning on my heels and leaving the room, "Sir, yes sir."

As soon as I left the room, _'ZETA!'_

 ** _"I'm here, I'm here! It's just... it talked to me, and I think I'm still in shock."_**

 _'What did it say?'_ I asked.

 _ **"It... it just said one word to me, just one."**_

 _'I asked again, what did it say?'_

 ** _"It was introducing itself. I didn't know what to say, so I just-"_**

 _'What. Did. It. Say?'_ I grit my teeth due to my impatience.

 _ **"It said, ' Salutations,'," **_Zeta answered.

 _'Okay, now then,'_ I removed my pistol from my belt and loaded a fresh magazine, "We're on the hunt for a Replicant."

 _ **"No more Blade Runner for you,"**_ Zeta deadpanned.

"Fine, I guess I'll just find that fucking Synth."

 _ **"Goddammit."**_

Anyway, I was officially on the hunt for Nick, _'Valentine.'_

 ** _"I heard that, shut the fuck up, Eddy."_**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: All right, finished with this chapter, hope you guys enjoy it.**

 **Trey Pallor's weapon and "Nick": please tell me someone gets the references!**

 **I don't have anything else to say at the moment... so I guess, keep an eye out for the next chapter and I'll see you guys later.**

 **And as always, stay beautiful, ladies and gents.**

 **Edit: The song that was used in this chapter was "Ain't no rest for the wicked" by Cage the Elephant.**


	7. Chapter 7: An Expected Journey

**Q &A: **

**Rook435:** **Well... something like that.**

 **welcometodalolz:** **[Sarcastic] How'd you guess?**

 **Uscjoey:** **You're correct on the first part, but the second? Well... you're a little off, but he belongs to the same universe and allegiance nonetheless.**

 **Karmic Impact:** **Well, you're correct on almost all points. But again, my rebuttal is in your own statement: Emerald is a thief, and not only a thief, a "master thief". She carries weapons, which means that she's not above doing morally wrong choices such as murder, so I can only assume smuggling herself from place to place can be an added assortment of crimes as well. Then she ends up on a list of western-esque Wanted posters before being found by Cinder, heheheh.**

 **But hey, we all have our own thoughts.**

 **Archmage:** **I know, huh? Pretty surprising there.**

 **NinjaWolf82:** **You're welcome.**

 **Guest: Haha, nice to see you spotted them. **

**Jasonhavok : Well, that's the problem, or not, depending on how you look at it. Eddy isn't crazy in the sense that he's "crazy-crazy", but he just has no problem doing the dirty, less-than-repectable jobs (as how Qrow would put it). He's mentally sound, he's capable of rational conversations and the like, though he borders on sociopathy. If I had to categorize him into any given morality spectrum, he'd be labeled as, not a quick-witted mercenary or shell-shocked, physically-wounded soldier trying to adjust to life in the only rational way possible, but more "Libertine".  
**

 **So in short, on a scale from 1-20, Eddy Winslow is a Sane 6.**

 **Acerman:** **In accordance to your last sentence in your review, I'll give you a hint: "You just destroyed my favorite clothing store (*spits*), prepare to die."**

 **darklegendarysoldier:** **Yeah, I do have a majority of this story planned out, and I plan on seeing through to the end.**

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Hello and welcome back to another chapter of RWBY: The Gunman. Hope you guys enjoyed the last chapter, cause we are about to jump right into the story in a little bit. **

**I sort of expected this story to come off as semi-successful, usually because 1. the RWBY Fanfic list is huge, so it's natural that my story would be sort-of lost in the assortment of stories, 2. this is an OC story, which means that it'll be loved by some, hated by others, and "I sorta don't know what to think about this so I don't if I should read this" by the rest; and 3. This story is in it's infancy, it's still taking it's first steps into canon.**

 **Speaking of before I started writing, when I began to write this story, I was torn between showing flashbacks of Eddy's backstory throughout the fic, or leaving bits of his past hinted in his actions, thoughts, and dialogue to be pieced together by the readers. So far, I think I'm doing pretty good with the latter, as I've received some rather attentive messages from you guys about Eddy, and I'm... genuinely surprised, to say the least.**

 **Alright, that's all I have to say for now, so I hope you guys like this chapter.**

 **The following chapter takes place a day after the events of chapter 6.**

 **Onto the story! AD VICTORIAM!**

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY, just my OCs.**

* * *

 **-Chapter 7: An Expected Journey-**

To say that we found Nick immediately wouldn't really be telling the truth. Sure, we managed to track him down within a single day, but that didn't make the journey any more easier.

It didn't take long for Zeta to track down our missing android either, which was actually surprising in my case. I had taken my fair share of bounty hunting missions back on Earth, some of them humans, while others were just runaway machines; Omicron or Zeta would immediately gather any information from records according to what a certain machine belonged to, then search for a specific set of data that was identical to any runaways. It would usually takes hours, sometimes even days, even for a supercomputer-level AI such as Omi and Zeta.

At first, I laughed it off and had said that a human could find them faster... before I realized that most programming that had given many a robot it's "thoughts" were military-grade software. How people got their hands on shit like that was beyond even my comprehension.

But for some strange reason, Zeta was able to track him down in mere seconds, while Omicron's calculations stated that it would take days to find our machine, given that we didn't have his exact appearance, what he was wearing, where he was heading to, etc.

Atlas should really stock up on surveillance cameras if they wanted jobs like this to be easier.

Luckily, Zeta's immediate finding led us somewhere... a little hostile.

More specifically, we found ourselves in an old, dilapidated set of ruins, looking like what seemed to have once been a high and mighty city. Now they were just destroyed wastes.

 _'Zeta, you seem to know more about this "Nick", given that you were able to track him down in what seemed to be a record-breaking scouting objective. I'll need information, think you can handle it?'_

 ** _"Sure thing, just ask me what you need,"_** the AI chimed in from within his head.

 _'First off, what're we dealing with exactly?'_ I asked, stepping over a piece of torn-down brick wall and continuing through the ruined city.

 _ **"Well, from what I can understand. Your... our target has been running in a linear direction through these ruins, dunno why though. Anything else?"**_

 _'Yeah, I mentioned yesterday, before we left, that the usual AI for Atlas drones were dumber than even the simplest combat machines on Earth, yet they suddenly made a leap in their progression of AI.'_

 ** _"You're guess is as good as mine-"_**

 _'For a supercomputer-level artificial intelligence, I thought you were supposed to be smart,'_ I deadpanned within my thoughts.

 _ **"Says the 'brave and powerful soldier' whom had been described to me before I was assigned to you,"**_ she countered before continuing, _**"But you make a good point on Atlas' technological progress, despite their advancements in technology, they seem pretty dim when compared to it's track record in more advanced forms of warfare, firearms and wartime transportation not included. In the meantime, however, it's all merely a few holes within the logic that I'm trying to fill in."**_

 _'I can make a dirty joke out of that last sentence.'_

 ** _" Don't," _**was all she said.

We continued trekking through the destroyed city, treading lightly as most of the asphalt that made up the road had been ruined. Claw marks had made themselves known on the still-crumbling buildings, the roads that they've been walking on, even a stop sign was torn in half and laid frayed across the sidewalk.

"Well, isn't this a sight," I said to myself, walking past a pool of what I hope wasn't blood.

 _'Nanoskin's on low-power mode right now, what's it's charge?'_ I asked Omicron.

The NanoSkin was currently powered at it's lowest setting, but enough to take on a basic form. The suit was currently disguised as light-grey Atlesian special-operations apparel. Both pistols, my old M1911 and it's bulkier cousin, laid in their holsters; my cane was in it's bladed form, sheathed at my hip to look like a sword, though it would seem that's true form would be fairly obvious, given that I couldn't disguise it's perpendicular hilt; while my knife was sheathed and attached to a strap that ran across my chest.

In my hands was what appeared to be the Remnant version of a Benelli M3 pump-action shotgun, though the receiver held a seven-shooter cylinder instead. It looked extremely impractical, but it was the only one provided that seemed to handle the kick from almost all forms of Dust. From solid ice Dust slugs (non-lethal) to gel-based fire Dust ( **very** lethal, legally only to be used against the creatures of Grimm as it has the highest fatality rate, range, and spread out of all buckshot-based ammunition). The only exception on this gun EVER was gravity Dust.

Nobody has ever found a way to fix the problems of gravity Dust.

The more that I think about it, I'm now suddenly realizing that I am oddly over-prepared for this mission. I mean, I'm carrying two pistols, a knife, a cane-sword, and a shotgun. That's five weapons. But then again, they're like condoms: better to have them and not need them than to need them and not have them.

Heheheh... innuendos.

 _ **"Ninety-four percent and holding. It would be at one-hundred if there were any wind or sunlight, but we we are in Atlas in the middle of a stagnant cloud day. In the meantime, both kinetic energy and the NS's battery should keep it in a stable condition."**_

 _'Alright, I'll make sure to remember that. Zeta, how close are we to our friend, mister Nick?'_

 ** _"Approximately a half-kilo. You see that large ominous building over there?"_**

I pressed a button on the side of my sunglasses, enhancing the magnification of my vision to see a dull-grey rectangular building, covered in what seemed to be a protective layer of metal. A bomb shelter maybe? Nah, Remnant doesn't have the firepower to breach a building that big.

Even the concept of the atom was still an anomaly to them. So what gives?

 _'Think the Grimm could breach that place?'_

 ** _"Hard to say, I can't really get a sure answer until we see for ourselves? You up for a little footwork for our android friend?"_**

"Sounds like a plan, let's get on with it," I said, racking the slide on my shotgun.

"Sir, what was that?" I heard behind me.

 _ **"Oh right, I almost forgot that you brought the kid along,"**_ the feminine AI remarked, _**"Okay, I'm gonna go now, see ya!"**_

 _'But I-... dammit. Zeta, you traitor,'_ I sighed in frustration. I considered putting a bullet in my brain in hopes that it at least silences Zeta, but then again, I really hadn't had a good track record with headshots. One put me in the hospital, the second put me in Remnant, I don't want to find out where the third takes me.

Private Pallor wasn't my first option for a teammate to bring on this mission, he was actually my second. My first decision would've been Qrow, but he's off for a mission in Mistral, something about some swamp in the middle of tit-fuck nowhere. He said he'll be back soon, but I doubt that he'll return without a creatively lewd story and some pictures in the event that I call bullshit on him.

I don't really have anybody else to trust, beside Glynda and, debatebly, Ozpin. So I had to trust someone who I've known (indirectly), and that someone was Trey Pallor.

It really wasn't the best decision on my part, but I have to improvise on occasion.

I turned around to see Private Pallor standing behind me, his weapon in it's rifle form, wearing an Atlesian infantryman outfit, minus the helmet and instead was replaced by a pair of green-lensed goggles that covered his eyes that, upon inspection from Omicron, revealed that they provided not only protective eye-wear, but a custom-programmed Heads-Up Display.

Not bad, not bad at all.

"Nothing," I replied, using my DS voice, "We have a job to do."

"Of course, sir," the boy nodded, though his voice took on an edge of concern, "If I may ask, what exactly are we looking for?"

Huh, he never asked for permission to speak, good. We're in the middle of a mission, not a training drill.

"Not what, who," I corrected, "Tell me, what do you think of that building over there? That giant bunker-looking building."

Trey pressed a button on the side of his goggles, watching as the lenses began to shrink in diameter and expand slightly, magnifying his vision.

"Well, it's big," I was on the verge of facepalming until he spoke once more, "And it's the only thing out of this entire place that's both in fair condition and still standing."

Huh, he had a point.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, this place was sacked by Grimm, right?"

"Obviously," I rolled my eyes, still looking at the building.

"No survivors?"

"Do you see any?" I waved my hand to the amount of nothing that made up the city.

"And that place is the only thing left standing, correct?"

"Are you going anywhere with this or are you going to continue stating the obvious?"

"No sir, I'm just wondering this: where are the Grimm now?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but closed it.

Lacking a response tends to do that. But he had a point, where were they?

"Maybe... maybe they got bored?" Trey hypothesized, scrunching his eyebrows and lowering his eyes in thought.

"Oh right," I said, "And maybe they decided to go to a party. You know? One of those Grimm rave parties and their fancy-shmancy cultural traditions. Or maybe they're attending a wedding over in Vacuo. With the Beowulf bride and the Ursa husband joining together in unholy matrimony, the wedding cake made out of red frosting and human flesh, tossing the bouquet of depression-themed flowers. You think that's a good theory as well?"

I could just see the oh-so subtle eye twitch from the boy.

The look of sweet, sweet annoyance and irritation; dear God, I'm back!

"...No sir," I looked down to see he was clenching his fists before they suddenly relaxed.

"Alright then. My turn, what if that building there wasn't meant to keep things out, but rather to keep something in?"

"Sir?"

"Think about it. No Grimm, as they have destroyed just about everything. Yet that building-" I point at said building, "Is still up? If it's strong enough to keep things out, there's a toss of a coin that it's meant to hold something in as well."

"Like what?" Trey queried, raising an eyebrow, as though trying to call bullshit on my current hypothesis.

"I dunno, at least my guess is better than yours. Now shut up and let's get a move on," I transferred the shotgun in my hands to my back before leaping off the small cliff of rubble that I had been standing on.

"But-"

 ***Caw!***

I looked up to see a raven perched on a bent lamppost, tilting it's head to the side with what appeared to be the bird version of a curious expression. Both the bird and I locked eyes for just a second, my bright baby-blues boring deep into it's... red eyes? Holy fuck, never seen a bird with red eyes before (though albinos were the exception).

Why didn't I notice it's peculiar ocular coloration earlier... wow, that's quite a mouthful of words... okay.

"Hello again, birdy!" I waved at the avian animal, which gave no response back to me.

The bird cawed once more before taking off and heading... straight towards the building.

Huh, well would you look at that, "Private Pallor, even the bird is telling you to hurry up!"

I laughed at my joke as Pallor attempted to catch up with me.

 _'Welcome to Mantle, I suppose,'_ I thought to myself, looking at the depressingly grey debris that littered such a once possibly average city.

 **-oOo-**

 ** _Twelve hours earlier..._**

I sat down at the foot at my bed, Qrow's bed being on the opposite side of the hotel room, with it still reeking of whiskey and the possible odor of bad sexytime.

He probably found that red-light district I was hoping he wouldn't find. But hey, the man has needs, not that I really care about them in particular, but still: NEEDS, GODDAMMIT!

My cane continued to rest beside me, the rest of my weapons just right next to it. My knife sharpened to a point; my pistols stripped, cleaned, and put back together; the carbon fiber bolts on my prosthetic hand were tightened once more out of necessity in the event that I might... _need a hand._

 _ **"God, that was awful,"**_ was Zeta's only reply.

"No it wasn't," I grinned slightly, placing the leather glove back on my hand, flexing the fingers just to make sure I didn't break anything important, "I guess you could say my jokes might come in _handy_."

A muffled groan emitted from the implant in my brain that held my AI. With Omicron busy on improving any software on my NanoSkin, that only left the one and only, Zeta.

 ** _"You are the worst kind of comedian, you know that, right?"_**

"I think I'm pretty good. In fact, I think it would call for-"

 _ **"Don't you dare."**_

"-A round-"

 _ **"Eddy, I will kill you."**_

"-Of applause," I finished.

 _ **"GAAAAAAAAAAGH!"**_ she screamed in frustration before suddenly disappearing from my mind.

I fell over onto the bed, laughing until it felt like my gut was made of white-hot lead. Once I calmed down, I heard the door open. Turning my head, I saw that it was Qrow who had entered the room.

"The hell's goin' on over here? Sounded like someone was torturing a Nevermore, which I would pay good money to see," he stumbled into the room and landed on the bed on the opposite of my own side of the room.

"You've got a sick mind, Qrow," I stated, laying my head back and staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah, and you're the only one that's known the better part of my messed-up brain, Ed. Not even the rest of my family knows," I lifted my head up to see him popping open his flask and drinking from it once more, "Oh yeah, Ozpin's wondering what to do with that rifle you left behind."

"What rifle?" I asked.

"The one that Glynda said that you had once you oh-so suddenly appeared in the forest," he answered.

Oh yeah, my old M4 carbine that I hadn't used in such a long time. It's probably still collecting dust (and not the magical kind) in my old quarters at Signal.

"Tell 'em to put it in the storage room. I won't be using it for a while," I said before getting back up, "Yo, Qrow."

"Yeah?"

"You never told me about your family. What're they like?" I asked.

"Why 'dya want to know?" Qrow inquired, giving me a suspicious look.

"I'm bored beyond all fuck, and you're leaving in a little bit, so I might as well ask before you leave," I responded bluntly, pulling myself up into a sitting position on the bed, "So, you got any special someones waiting for you at home?"

The man barked a laugh, "Hah! I wish, I just can't seem to hold any intimate relationships for more than a few weeks at least; at least that's what Summer once told me back then just to tease me."

"Summer?" I gave him a confused look before his own expression suddenly hardened.

"I... I don't want to talk about it," Qrow hesitated, which was unusual for him. I watched as he took another sip from his flask, "Too many things that I don't want to remember."

"Ah... alright, I know what you mean. Besides that, do you know anyone else? Any family members, perhaps?"

"I only got two that I'm directly related with: my sister and one of my nieces, the other's are my second niece and Taiyang, my old partner when I was a huntsman-in-training," he started.

"You would've liked Tai, the man's got a bad sense of humor; one that my niece picked up on, and my God does it hurt me a little every time I hear those damn puns. My nieces go to Signal, maybe you've seen 'em before?" Qrow asked, taking another sip of his whiskey, "Their names are Ru-"

His Scroll buzzed to life, interrupting his small speech. I watched as he picked up his Scroll and looked up at it, "Shit, I gotta go."

"Where're you going anyway?"

"Mistral, bounty mission. Speaking of which, you need to get to yours," he got up, picking up his sword and sheathing it to his back.

"Wha- oh right, yeah. Well, see ya later, Qrow," I nodded to him as he waved lightly at me from behind his back before the door closed behind him.

As soon as the door closed, I immediately flopped off the bed and reached for each of my weapons, stuffing his pistols into their holsters, looping his cane-sword through a sheathe-belt around my waist, my knife in it's own sheathe across my back.

I looked back at the bed to see that I was now absent of all weapons. Though it seemed like something was missing.

Oh right, I needed a primary firearm, a pair of sidearms and melee weapons just wouldn't do. Note to self: stop by a weapons store and pick something up, preferably something that preaches equality.

And by equality, I mean something that is able to rend flesh from bone, metal from circuitry, and whatever the hell covered a creature of Grimm from whatever the hell was inside a creature of Grimm.

 **Equally**.

I rose up from the bed and made my way to the door, but was stopped by a rather peculiar noise.

And that noise was the sound of something tapping on a glass window. I turned to see a bird perched on the outside of the hotel's window. I found it rather strange since this bird just so happened to be a raven.

The raven and I stared at each other for a few seconds before it suddenly cawed at me and flew away.

Well, wasn't that goddamn awkward, I might as well say something just to make it less awkward.

"Hey, Edgar Allen Poe reject! I already died, you're a little late for the occasion," I muttered while also aware that I was now speaking to nobody in general. Now I just made the situation even more awkward. On the bright side, bird symbolism!

Avian interaction aside, I got both my gear and my shit together before heading out the door, having to retrieve one more thing before I head to wherever Zeta managed to find our automatonic escapee.

Fishing out my Scroll, I dialed a set of numbers before bringing it up to my ear, waiting (im)patiently as it continued to ring.

There was a click, "Hello?"

"General Ironwood, it's me, Eddy," I greeted.

"I know, Sergeant, we talked just yesterday. What do you need?" the man sighed quietly.

"I need an accomplice for this mission," I explained oh-so subtly.

"And why on Remnant would you need someone to work alongside you of all people?" the General demanded .

"Sheesh, getting hostile already?" I pulled back and looked at the Scroll in confusion before bringing back to my ear.

"Just concerned about your intentions. I had been informed that you were previously a mercenary, after all."

"Look, I don't know how you're mercenaries (*cough*HuntsmanandHuntresses*cough*) function here, but where I'm from. I follow the code of my own little 'guild' of mine, meaning that this gun-for-hire has standards. Understand?"

I could hear him give off what seemed to be a cross between a sigh and a growl, "... Yes, I understand. Now, why do you need someone to help you?"

I stepped into the elevator of the hotel, punching in the button for the ground floor, "Never been to Mantle before-"

"Nobody has, not in a long time."

"And you wonder why your soldiers come up empty handed," I chided Ironwood, now aware that I was backtalking basically the leader of Atlas, it's Huntsman academy, and army. I felt pretty damn empowered, "Look, I just need an extra pair of eyes. None of this 'lone wolf merc' bullshit. An extra pair of hands, eyes, ears, et cetera would benefit greatly."

I heard an audible 'hmm' on the other end of the line, "I see your point. In that case, I'll send someone to your location and-"

"Actually, General, I had someone else in mind."

"And who would that be?" he inquired over the Scroll.

"Well... before I go any further into detail, you'll have to cancel his class for today..."

"...What?"

 **-oOo-**

 _ **Present Day...**_

I watched as the bunker doors slid up and the normal doors slid open as I unlocked them with the panel beside it, asking for a password.

As it turns out, a twelve-gauge shotgun round was a viable password to opening the door.

I looked up at the building, now aware that the entire place was it's shade of grey due to a large quantity of metal had completely enshrouded it. It meant that this place was quarantined and currently under lockdown.

That raises the question, what could be so bad that they had to lock down this entire building? To put it simply, we're going to find out.

God, that sounds so cheesy now that I've said it in my head. I looked up to see the raven perched on another lamppost, looking at us with those beady, yet vaguely intelligent red eyes.

 _ **"You are stupidly fortunate. I mean, there was a five-point-two percent chance that that would work,"**_ Zeta scolded me.

 _'But it worked, didn't it? Besides, you would've unlocked the door from the other side, couldn't you?'_

She sighed, **_"I sometimes hate it when you know this stuff already. But yeah, I could've gotten it open."_**

 _'Bloody genius, I am,'_ I thought in a faux cockney accent, walking through the door and into the dark room.

The room they walked into seemed to be a ginormous lobby, almost all light was completely dispersed, save for a few low-powered emergency lights, though even they were flickering every now and then.

"So who are we looking for again, sir?" Pallor queried, his rifle aimed steadily at whatever was in front of him, which just so happened to be a sofa.

"I never told you in the first place. But now that you ask, it's someone that's ran away from Atlas, and we're just here to find him and bring him home," I explained, "And enough with the 'sir', we're in the middle of a mission."

"Okay, but why did he leave?" the boy asked.

"That's a good question," no, seriously, it was a good question, one that I'll have to ask Ironwood the same thing once we get back, "I'll ask him when we find him."

"Do you know who this person even is? Or what he looks like?"

"All Ironwood just told me was that we'll know who he is when he find him," I answered.

"Sounds a little vague if you ask me."

"Same, but I don't get paid just for sitting around with my thumb up my ass," we made our way down a narrow hallway as soon as we left the lobby. From the amount of rooms that we've been passing, I'm starting to tell that this place used to be either a medical or science facility. Medical, due to the amount of syringes, empty blood packs, and pharmaceutical containers lying about on the floor, strewn about messily; or science, given from the amount of bottles containing solutions and compounds with almost incomprehensible words.

Nevertheless, we proceeded with making our way through the complex, our weapons lowered slightly yet still locked and loaded for whatever may come.

"So, what's our guy's name?" Pallor asked, giving me a curious look.

"He goes by the name of Nick, I don't know anything else."

"Just Nick? No last or middle name?"

"All I got is a name and that's about it. So for now, you either nut up or shut up, and get going!" I yelled, a little irritated, not by the Private, but by the realization that Ironwood's been keeping me in the dark about all this stuff.

And here we go, it's the cryptic bullshit all over again. First with the entity that brought me back to life, then it was Glynda, then it was Ozpin, and now Ironwood!? The guy's as wooden as his fucking last name and as blunt as... well, his last name.

Anyway, we continued to walk through the darkening hallways, I watched as the place began to darken as we trekked through the desolate halls.

Ironically, I activated the night-vision mode on my sunglasses, allowing me to finally see more than a meter in front of my face.

After minutes of nothing but walking, we came across a split. One (the left) leading left into a morgue, and the other (the right) leading to a blood testing facility.

I did a double take at the sign: Blood Testing? Well, that definitely doesn't sound ominous.

"Which-"

"Right," I immediately interrupted, pointing at the path with my shotgun, "I really don't have a good feeling about this."

"Does this have to do with the person we're looking for?"

I scoffed lightly as I began walking through the hallway to the blood room, "I wish, I just find this place more than a little creepy."

We continued to walk through the filthy once-immaculate hall, it's floors tarnished with a suspiciously black ooze and it's walls stained with brown-red splotches.

At last, we came upon the blood testing room.

I looked at Pallor, motioning to the door, "Stay here, in case anything comes our way. I need you to stay alert."

He nodded quickly, "Of course."

What surprised me was that I've been using my Drill Sergeant voice this whole time without even realizing it.

The Blood testing room looked exactly how I expected it to look in an abandoned hospital/laboratory: formerly clean, stained with blood and broken glass, clear murky plasma floating amidst the blood beneath my boots. Vials of blood laid in clear-glassed refrigerators that were somehow still operating, hospital beds with half-emptied IVs laid messily strewn on parallel ends of the room.

I ran my fingers across one of the beds, I brought it up to see that dust had accumulated over time. The beds looked old, and I mean World War I level old. This place's probably stood since Remnant's Great War. Let's hope there isn't a second or that's just a bad track record on war.

Before I was ready to leave the place, I turned just in time to see a small label hanging above a creepily neat stack of mid-sized metallic crates, one that I recognized even back on Earth.

A Biohazard warning.

Now one thing irked me now that I've set my sights upon this peculiar sign: there's vials of blood everywhere, some broken, some not, but why of all things are those crates bearing a biohazard sign.

I stalked upon one of the crates with ease, a little anxious by what I might stumble upon. I pressed a button on the side of my sunglasses and input a command on the NanoSkin that had currently been disguised as it's spec-ops suit. The faux military helmet upon my head suddenly began to melt as the suit began to follow it's command, my headwear began to shift from the back of my head to the front, stretching and expanding; my glasses began to meld with the grey gel-like substance until it suddenly hardened into a material form not unlike candle wax suddenly solidifying.

Instead of my sunglasses and a helmet, on my face was now a fully functioning gas mask advanced to filter out even the most microscopic and deadliest of toxins and, in this case, biohazards.

The crate in front of me held a panel to a set of numerical buttons. With Omicron's help, he used his security breaking skills to unlocked the sealed top that held whatever was inside. Using my blade, I prodded it open, listening as it fell to the floor with a loud clang.

"What's going on back there?" I heard Pallor ask out of curiosity.

"Nothing, pay attention to what's in front of you," I ordered before looking back at the crate, steeling myself for what was inside.

Inside the box was a large cloud of fog, obscuring my vision from what was inside.

I unholstered my Remnant pistol and peeked my head over to get a look at what was inside... nothing was moving so far, so I had that going for me. Sheathing my sword, I continued to train my pistol on whatever was in the box until the fog completely dissipated.

Inside was a long row of vials, each containing a sort of black liquid. Cautiously, I removed the leather glove from my left hand, revealing the high-tech prosthesis. I picked one up and began looking at it cautiously, holding it away from my face should it be some sort of biological weapon.

I swished the black goop from within it's container, watching as some of it began to stack to the surface, a little too much like blood. The strangest part about it was the fact that it gave off an eerie red hue.

 _'Omicron, prepare for storage, I'm taking this back to Atlas as soon as we recover Nick.'_

 ** _"Of course, sir,"_** a small container opened up from the side of my belt. I placed the vial into the slot before it finally sealed back up, solidifying completely. I pressed a button on the side of my mask, it immediately reformed back into my helmet and sunglasses.

"Alright, Pallor, let's get out of-"

 ***BANG! BANG!***

I whipped around at the sound of two gunshots, "What the hell was that!?"

"Sergeant Winslow, I saw movement! It looked like a man!"

"And your idea was to shoot it?! It could've been our target!" I scolded the boy, removing my shotgun and checking my ammunition.

Non-lethal ice rounds, good.

"He fired at me as soon as I did!"

"Then it was in self-defense, you twit!" I growled.

 _'Zeta, where's our target?'_

 ** _"He's moving away from our location. Five meters away."_**

 _'That's not too bad.'_

 ** _"Directly below us. We're on ground floor and he's descending the stairs at a surprisingly quick rate."_**

"Fuck... Pallor, Follow me!" I yelled, bolting past him and running out of the room.

 _ **"Stairs going down directly on your right, hurry!"**_ Zeta advised in an almost panicked voice while I obeyed her command. True to her word, I found a flight of stairs that had led downward, deeper into the building.

Wasting no time at all, I skipped walking and leaped off the edge, past all the stair steps, and landing at the bottom with a roll before breaking into a sprint.

 _'Nailed it,'_ I thought, listening to the muffled steps of Pallor hastily following behind me.

 _ **"He's running to the other end of the building. Target's distance is twenty meters... seventeen meters? Fourteen? Eddy, he's heading straight towards you,"**_ Zeta continued to inform me.

"Good," I whispered to the AI, jogging with my scattergun in both hands, "The closer he is, the better I have a chance to-"

 _ **"Duck!"**_ Omicron yelled, I immediately fell to the ground as a loud bang was heard, a bullet ripping through where I once stood.

"Where was that!" I demanded, blindly aiming my gun at the darkness. Even with the night-vision on my glasses, there was nothing there.

 _ **"Calculating trajectory... he is either currently hiding behind that barricade at the far end of the hallway, or he already left,"**_ Omicron said, **_"Your target is using a .357 caliber sidearm. Make and model: unknown."_**

I aimed my shotgun forward, cautiously wary of whatever was in front of me. Immediately after the words left Omicron, I saw a flash of movement, as well as the flash of a gun's muzzle. I ducked again to hear the whiz of a bullet soar away from me and impact behind a stack of plastic boxes. I backed away until I was crouched behind a stack of the same boxes. I aimed my shotgun and unloaded a round, watching as it impacted the barricade hiding my acquisition.

"That was a warning shot! Try again and the next one'll hit you where the sun don't shine!" I yelled at my attacker. I glimpsed out of the corner of my eye to see Private Pallor catching up to me, I immediately pulled him downward beside me.

"What's going on?" Pallor asked.

"Shut up, let me handle it," I hissed.

"J-just stay away! I don't want to hurt anyone, just leave me be!" I heard a voice, which was just on the other side of the barricade.

"You know I can't do that. Your name's Nick, right?" I asked without missing a beat.

"Y-yeah, I suppose so. Look, I'm in the middle of something. I can't go back to Atlas, there's... there's something wrong here."

"And what's this 'something', mister Nick?" I asked, raising myself up to a standing position, only to fall back down as another gunshot was heard.

"I said go away! I don't trust you! Just let me stay, let me stay..." his voice faltered slightly.

"Look Nick, maybe we can sort something out. Y'know? Like a sort of compro _mIse,_ " I felt my Drill Sergeant voice crack slightly, bringing back my old voice.

Dammit puberty, why must I suffer from you once more. Alright, even if Pallor noticed, I could still make an excuse for-

"Wait a minute, your voice. I... I've heard it before," Nick said, his voice rising a pitch, almost in realization.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I tried to bring back my disguised voice, but the voice crack continued, impairing my speech to that of my original voice.

"Sergeant?" I heard Pallor ask, "What's wrong with your-"

"Shut it, I need to-"

"Yeah, I remember. Winslow, your name is Winslow. I remember you... trying to survive in the midst of a war... a war against some pitiful tyrant," I heard a click, the hammer of his gun, which I now guessed was a revolver, "I have a deal for you, Winslow. Let's talk, face to face, no weapons, no silly tricks, just a simple talk."

Alright, my brain was now on red alert. How did this guy know about the war we won on Earth? I really wanted to shoot him, I really did, the bastard managed to spill my secret to some trainee beside me. My trigger finger itched violently, but something told me- no, urged me to stand down. I slowly slung the shotgun in my hands over to my back, I slowly stood up.

"Fine... I guess the cat's out of the bag. But yeah, I agree, let's talk," I said, standing at full height before shooting a look at Pallor, "We'll talk about this later."

I just suddenly realized how painful it was to talk in my DS voice, now aware of how easy it was to talk as myself again.

I began to watch as the figure on the other side of the hall rose it's feet, watching as it came forward, revealing his appearance under the dim and flickering light.

Nick was about my height, thought probably a bit shorter due to the boots he's currently wearing. Atop his head was a small nest of silver-brown hair growing out, his eyes glowed a dim and sickly orange, his skin was an ashen-grey, almost lifeless. The parts that stood out the most was the fact that parts of his skin was missing, revealing patches of exposed metal and circuitry, ore around his neck and right wrist, where it stemmed off into a mechanical skeletal-looking hand. In his left hand was the Remnant equivalent of a double-action MP412 REX revolver, where it was clutched tightly in the palm.

He wore a pair of dark-grey camouflage pants that seemed to be a size too big for him, which was why it was wrapped by a belt; covering his torso was a plain, white, short-sleeved shirt. Nick wore a pair of brown combat boots that actually fit him. Around his neck was a scarf more than likely meant to cover his robot patches, and hanging off of his right hand pocket held a leather glove, more than likely meant to cover his hand as well, just like I did with ol' left stumpy and the fake hand that replaced it.

His face sort of looked like what would happen if Ferris Bueller was a robot in disguise, albeit a poor disguise and if he spoke in a weak Bostonian accent.

"Put the gun away, we had a deal," I warned, pressing my own hand against my sidearm.

"I suppose so," he holstered his pistol, his fiery orange eyes boring deep into my own bright blues, "So... now you're here, I guess."

"Yeah, so I have some questions for you," I said, my arms crossing over my chest.

"Alright, ask away," the android nodded, I turned and glanced behind me to see that Pallor was completely dumbstruck by Nick's appearance.

"You're a... a-"

"Robot? Yeah, I get it. You got anything else to say?" Nick raised an eyebrow at the boy, watching as he immediately shut up, "Alright then, Winslow, what did you want to ask?"

"You escaped an Atlas facility-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, okay. When I was just an AI in an empty body, I was... altered by whatever they put into my noggin-" he tapped at the center of his cranium with a metal, bony finger.

"Dunno what they did to me, but all I remembered was you and some... desolate place in a town residing in the ruins of Mantle. It was an immediate obsession that I had obtained, so I broke out and made my way to this place with only the clothes on my back, this here pistol, and my guts... not literally though," he pointed to the pistol in it's holster, then gestured to the whole of himself.

"What makes this place so special? It's just a ruined old hospital-" Pallor decided to speak up.

The moment he finished his sentence, an almost ear-splitting scream had made itself known, forcing us all to turn at the direction of the source.

"You just had to open your mouth and jinx it, didn't you?" I glared fiercely at the boy, who raised his hands in a 'wasn't-me' kind of way.

Nick, on the other hand, merely reloaded his revolver, slamming the cylinder back into the barrel and pointing in the direction of the noise, "That is what makes this place so special. You see, this place wasn't just a hospital, and I plan to find out what's wrong with it."

"Like a robot sleuth?" I remarked, only to receive a glare from Nick.

"I understand that reference, thanks to whatever made me recognize you, and I hate the fact that I'm based on him for whatever reason."

"He's a cool companion, my snide remarks and sarcasm inspired me, okay? Don't hate me for overusing him," I huffed slightly before unslinging my shotgun and replacing the ice shots with fire dust-propelled buckshot.

"What in the _world_ are you guys talking about?" the boy before us asked out of complete and utter confusion.

"Foreign video games, you wouldn't understand," I hastily answered before fast-walking alongside Nick.

 _ **"You still have the game downloaded into the drive on your helmet,"**_ Omicron added.

 _'Damn straight. Though in my opinion, Obsidian's new game did better than Bethesda's post-apocalyptic settlement/Taken simulator,'_ I thought snidely.

 _ **"I'd like to disagree on that,"**_ Zeta butted in.

 _'First off, your opinion is moot to me, Zeta. Second, WHY DO YOU JUST SUDDENLY DECIDE TO SHOW UP NOW!?'_

 ** _"I've actually been searching for how project NICKEL is aware of this place-"_**

 _'Yeesh, a little touchy on the names, ain't ya, princess?'_

 ** _"Shove it, Eddy, I'm just irked by NICKE-... Nick's personality. There's just something too off about him, yet at the same time, a little too familiar. I just can't put my (digital) finger on it. I'll have to look further into any of the data that I had picked up."_**

 _'In the meantime, I'll find out whatever's going on here in a more... direct manner.'_

 ** _"That moment when we're thinking the same thing? It just happened."_**

 _'Awesome.'_

"Pointless things aside," Nick waved off, raising his revolver in an alert manner, "We're not alone in this place, and I intend to find out what's going on."

I followed after him, my pistol in my left hand and my sword in my right. Pallor removed his rifle and held it in his hands, aiming it forward in an offensive stance.

And so, using nothing but grit, our weapons, sheer determination, and our instincts to survive, we took our first steps into this nightmare, hoping to unearth whatever secrets lay ahead of us and to-

"And for the record, Winslow, robot sleuth is the wrong term-"

 _'Oh my God, is he really going to say it?!'_ I thought in pure shock, though my face didn't show it.

 ** _"Ugh, he's going to say it,"_** Zeta groaned within my brain.

"-It's Synth detective, jackass," Nick snarked at me as we continued our trek into whatever abyss lay ahead of us.

Needless to say, shit was about to get real.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: My God, has it really been three months since I updated? Jeez, I need to make a schedule for this stuff AND come up with more material, FAST!**

 **Sorry if this chapter is a little... well, bland. I didn't want this to be dead as I see so much potential in this, but hey, a good story sometimes has a slow start on occasion.**

 **If you guys didn't notice, there are a few probably-subtle references in the story that'll hint to more that is to come in the future. In the meantime, however, I have to stick with the one thing that'll leave people lazily interested:**

 **Cliffhangers! I know, I'm now a victim of this as well.**

 **Anyway, hope you guys spotted the references I made (most of them are obvious), and as always, stay beautiful, ladies and gents.**


	8. Chapter 8: Lusus Naturae

**Q &A: **

**SPEEDOUGHFLY : Calm down, GI Joe, there's enough testosterone-fueled patriotism for everyone today. **

**Tacosaucelord** **, darklegendarysoldier, Archmage,** **and Carnival Hex: Thank you very much for recognizing the references. **

**Archmage : Happy now?**

 **Ano** **n** **Guy : This is an OC story, not a Self-Insert.**

* * *

 **Author's Notes : Yeah, I know, it's been a while, sue me. I've been busy catching up on my first fic (RWBY: The Hunter, the one that kickstarted my hobby for FF), so it's been giving me time to do more thinking on the plot of THIS story as well. **

**I've been playing RWBY: Grimm Eclipse lately, so you guys might see something that may look familiar.**

 **Also, I have decided to change the story's title to just The Gunman, as it's already obvious that it's a RWBY fic. **

**Anyways, onto the story!**

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY, just my OCs.**

* * *

 **-Chapter 8: Lusus Naturae-**

"Alright, that is just plain wrong," Nick looked down at the limp corpse, I looked up to see the barrel of his pistol still smoking.

"Christ," I placed my hand over my mouth in disgust, "I know it only took a few shots to keel this thing over but... damn."

I looked up to see Pallor standing at the corner, trying to hold in anything that dared to come out of his mouth and make a colorful and smelly mess all over the floor. I would be inclined to do the same with him, but I (we... maybe) had a mission to complete.

Though the corpse wasn't really helping with the situation... not one bit. I get shivers up my spine just looking at the damn thing.

 _'Omicron, penny for your thoughts?'_

 _ **"Not human, not Grimm... to be honest, Eddy, this is one of the few times where I have not a clue as to what this thing is,"**_ Omicron answered, his default monotone voice actually taking a tone of curiosity and frustration due to lack of data.

I nudged the thing's leg with my foot, making sure that it was actually dead. It was commonplace for creatures of Grimm to fade into dust (and not the magical kind) upon their deaths, but this wasn't exactly the time for commonplace.

The body itself was humanoid, taking on some physical attributes of an average-sized person.

The key word being _"some"_ , because as far as I could tell, this thing wasn't your average Joe. The most obvious signs being the black tar-like substance coating various parts of the body, the bone plates and spines that lined the joints of the arms and legs, and a single bone mask covering the upper-half of it's face, a single glowing bloodshot eye in the center of it's bony upper part of it's face.

To think that this was the creature letting out an ear-splitting shriek... Jesus, and I thought I needed singing lessons. Nevertheless, jokes aside, it only took just three shots from Nick's revolver to put it down. At first, we all thought it was some special Grimm at first, then we watched as it _didn't_ dissolve.

Can't really be blamed for that kind of expectation. If it looks the part, sounds the part, and acts the part, then it is the part... I'm just surprised to find out that it wasn't.

"Next one's mine," I said, sheathing my sword, holstering my pistol, and unslinging the shotgun off of my back and into my hands. I tapped a button on the side of my firearm and watched as the cylinder popped open, revealing seven shells of Ice dust. I removed the shells with careful ease and placed them into one of my pockets before replacing them with kinetic Dust rounds.

To a novice, kinetic Dust can be confused with standard gravity Dust (don't see why, both are labeled with different colors that even a child would be able to distinguish). The difference being that one knocks the person who you're aiming at on their ass, while the other knocks both the shooter and the victim in the opposite directions.

Layman's terms: they hurt. A lot.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Nick cocked an eyebrow at me before following, his gun lowered slightly, though still alert for whatever may be lurking about, "Also, now that I think about it. I think that gut feeling that compelled me to come here was probably for this reason."

"Yeah... I think we figured that by now," I gave him a somewhat exasperated expression before picking up the pace through the darkened hallways, "Pallor, you okay?"

"I think I'll be alright... you know a good therapist, sir?" he asked, his voice taking an _'I'm-so-fucking-done-with-this-shit-right-now'_ tone.

"Maybe, but we need to focus on the task at hand," I reminded the boy, turning to glance at his paled face, "At first, it was 'find Nick and get the hell outta dodge', but now I need to find out what's going on here."

I turned at the sound of another shriek, catching sight of another one of those things charging straight towards us. I ended up fulfilling my promise and kicked back the Olympic-sprinting creature with the blast of a twelve-gauge shot of pure Dust, punching a hole through it's chest the size of a bowling ball.

The creature was dead before it hit the ground.

"This thing's scream may have attracted others, we need to get moving," I informed them, glancing down at my gun for a split second before raising it back up.

 _'Zeta, anything we can do to get the lights on?'_

 _ **"I'll see what I can do... mm hmm... alright..."**_ she mumbled to herself, _**"The infrastructure runs on an independent power generator in one of the lower levels, so I might be able to turn it on. If we're lucky, then I should be able to see if this place has any countermeasures in the event of an outbreak."**_

 _'This doesn't look like an outbreak, more like an infestation.'_

 ** _"They're more synonymous than they might seem, Ed. Listen, I'll be back in a bit, I'll see if I can get those lights."_**

 _'Understood,'_ I replied, letting the feminine AI disappear within my head.

I broke into a sprint through the hallways, doing my best to find any stairs that would take me into this rabbit hole... metaphorically, of course... maybe even literally as well. Nevertheless, I continued to proceed through the cramped hallways, resisting every urge to snap at every little sound, especially the small group following close behind.

Nick covered my left while Trey followed to my right, all of us forming a small human(-ish) pyramid. The three of us kept sight on all sides as we tread carefully.

"So... Sergeant?" Trey asked, "You're... you're not-"

"Old?" I guessed without looking back at him, "Well... yes and no."

"That doesn't make any sense. All this time, we thought that you were some grizzled veteran fighting against the Grimm and White Fang. Not... what you are."

"Understandable, Private. But you gotta remember, I may not be old, but if I wasn't grizzled, then explain how I outrank you, hmm?" I challenged, still composing sight on what was ahead of me, keeping my finger on the trigger as I peered into the dark hallway, the flashlight on my helmet glaring brightly.

All I received was silence from the young boy, good. I heard another wail coming from up ahead, I raised my gun and fired, watching as the shambling corpse-like fucker fell to the ground, minus the head. I racked the slide on my shotgun and proceeded, "Alright, that's another down, let's keep on going."

 _'Zeta, lights on?'_

 ** _"Gimme a sec... just about got it. All I need to do is bypass this, reroute some tech stuff you wouldn't understand over here. Aaaaaaand now!"_** and just like that, the lights flickered to life, the automated doors' lights lit up as well, _**"Uh... not to worry, I scanned for any signs of life within any of the rooms you had previously passed. Thankfully, there were none."**_

That was then cut off by another shriek... one that just so happened to be very close by.

 _'Zeta...'_

 ** _"I... didn't account for the rooms that are currently ahead of you. If I may make a suggestion, the best course of action would be to run!"_**

The minimap in the corner of my Heads-Up Display flickered to life with red dots sprawling across the front end, "Guys... we better haul ass!"

I immediately turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, the others quickly following as well. The three of us sprinted through a labyrinth of corridors, nearly trampling over one another as we passed waves and waves of those creatures, their jagged claws proof enough that this was definitely not a safe place.

A few precious seconds of running led us into a dead end, the only thing greeting us was a solid brick wall painted with white, though the red-black stains that dotted the walls were more than likely not decorum, otherwise this would be a pretty unnerving facility.

"Fuck!" Nick growled, slamming his skeletal fist into the wall, "What now?!"

Even without using my AI's help, I quickly scanned around the hallways on the opposite side of the wall as the silhouettes of those monsters only began to grow. I immediately wrapped my fingers around the hinge to a nearby door and attempted to open it, only to find out that it wasn't budging. I looked up to see the first few creatures make their way 'round the corner, where they spotted us and immediately broke into a sprint.

I raised my shotgun, only for Pallor to shoot the beast dead with a single shot from his rifle while Nick took care of the rest with pinpoint accuracy. I looked around the cramped area once more to see one open door, though it was a little too close to the corner.

Fuck it, "Guys, this way!"

I let loose a few more shots before the gun went empty. The others covered for me as I reloaded, sliding in each shot with various rounds, not even caring for what I put in before we dove into the room and pressed a button, allowing it to slide, only for the monsters to grab hold of the door and attempt to pry it open. I quickly reacted by unsheathing my knife and slicing off it's fingers, letting the door close and another howl of pain to resonate from the other side. The door closed with a solid click.

"That should hold them," I sighed, letting my hands fall to my knees and bending my head down, now taking mild interest in the floor.

My response was met once more with screams and banging on the door. Their only entrance and exit beginning to bend from the pressure, "Me and my big fucking mouth..."

"Hey, Winslow! In here," Nick said, pressing a button on the opposite side of the room, which opened another door, one that was right next to a glass screen.

I looked at the door that was slowly falling, seeing a large quantity of arms and hands spouting from the cracks, then to Nick, who was motioning to the door. Without hesitation, I grabbed Pallor by the collar and pulled him into the new room, slamming my elbow into the big red button that would close the door behind us.

As soon as the new door closed, the other broke down, allowing these creatures to shamble in by the score. With the light from the room displaying their full appearance, I couldn't help but feel another set of chills crawling up my spine. That, and them bashing on the glass next to the door... that also seemed to scare me shitless.

Eventually, I began to see hairline cracks in the glass as they pounded mercilessly on the window. I raised my gun towards them, calmly and gently pressing my index finger against the trigger.

"Well, I'm not sure if this is it. But if it is... well, I don't know what to say, " I exhaled, "Death by Grimm zombie wasn't exactly something I expected to be my cause of death."

Pallor and Nick pointed their weapons at the glass as well, "With all due respect, I blame the robot for this, sir."

"Blow me, Private," Nick snarked, refusing to take his eyes off the pane.

The beasts continued to pound on the door and window, the glass beginning to fracture.

 ***BOOM*** Once...

 ***BOOM*** Twice...

 ***BOOM*** Thrice...

A bead of sweat poured down the side of my head as the window began to break, my hands held tightly onto my firearm.

However, before either had a chance to act, four objects moved into view from the ceiling, each of them taking a corner of the old room and heavily resembling turrets.

 **"BEGINNING SYSTEM PURGE,"** a loud and sonorous monotone voice rang out before a jettison of flames sprang forth from the machines, spraying the unfortunate creatures with a wave of fire.

I couldn't help but grimace at the agonized screams, their hands clawing at the glass before being met with silence, **"PURGE PROTOCOLS COMMENCED. TESTING LABORATORY ANOMALIES NEUTRALIZED."**

I cautiously pressed the button on our side of the room and let the door slide open, only to be met by a combination of heat and mangled, seared flesh. The odor permeated my nose, I forced myself not to gag at the smell.

Afterwards, a new voice rang out from the speaker in this room and a hologram of a young woman in a green cloak appeared. The woman was surrounded by lines and lines of code that seemed to surround her like a gale. The woman was strikingly beautiful, with sharp feminine features and a pair glowing red eyes, the cloak seemed to be made out of some form of animal-skin.

It took me a second to realize that this was actually an Artificial Intelligence. Thank Christ for that, if Coco found out, she'd have my ass on a bullet-riddled silver platter.

A pang seemed to hammer into my mind. I realized that was Zeta, _'What's the matter... jealous?'_

 ** _"I will stab you,"_** she growled at me. I couldn't help but chuckle.

 **"Greetings,"** the woman held out her arms to the side in a gesture of good faith, **"My name is 'Grimm Research and Experimentation, Neurology, and Development Librarian", but you may call me G.R.E.N.D.E.L.. I assume that you have many questions to ask me."**

I raised an eyebrow at the woman before slinging my gun over my shoulder, listening as the others did the same for their firearms as well, "Something like that. We seem to have run into some trouble on our little tour here."

 **"Oh, so you three are visiting this facility? Splendid,"** she clapped her virtual hands in glee, **"Though I must apologize for the rest of the researchers. They may have gone a bit... unstable, but I am nevertheless continuing my efforts to assist in their plight."**

"Understatement of the day," Nick murmured, noticing as Pallor and I nodded in agreement.

"Well, if you can continue assisting them, that would be great," I recommended, "Also, I'd like to find out if you can be our guide throughout the lower levels of this facility."

 **"Oh, further transport to the lower levels is strictly forbidden by our head researcher, I cannot allow that,"** she shook her head.

"What if I said 'pretty please'?" I smiled sweetly to the AI.

 **"I fail to see how that wo-wou- succe-e-e-e-"** Grendel's form began to shimmer and distort before suddenly disappearing. Seconds later, she reappeared, completely unchanged, **"Access granted, please follow the green markers as we make our travels. If you have any questions while on our tour, feel free to ask."**

"Um... what exactly did you do?" Private Pallor asked, utterly confused by what just happened.

 _ **"You owe me**_ **one,"** Zeta whispered within my brain before shutting off. _  
_

"Lucky guess?" I failed to bullshit my way out of this before ignoring a raised eyebrow, facing the transparent woman now making her way through the corridor. The robot and the trainee simultaneously each raised an eyebrow before shrugging off the vague answer.

We started our 'tour' through the now-brightened hallways, Grendel flickered every now and then as we heard the sounds of a flamethrower going off on a howling Grimm-creature.

 **"This facility was founded approximately ninety-years ago by Professor Xan Vera, twelve years before the Great War... though there was nothing great about such vile conflict,"** the hologram explained bitterly, **"The purpose of this facility was to study and find treatment for rare and deadly diseases."**

I quickly snapped to the side and fired at another creature who was lucky enough to get through the defense systems. The abomination fell to the ground as jagged shards of ice sprouted from various cavities in it's head. This was a perfect example of why you shouldn't open your mouth when an assumably harmless shot of Ice Dust was going to hit you.

 **"Fast forward fifty-years later,"** Grendel began, **"And you'll see that Mantle Research has soared in the Drug and Pharmaceuticals Industry, disease were being wiped out by the week. Viruses, bacteria, and fungus alike were going extinct. It wasn't until a rather influential man had decided to buy the facility and use it for his own means."**

"Shit," I cursed, stepping onto a glass beaker and nearly scaring the bejeezus out of me. The three of us (four, if you count the AI) made our way down the stairs and towards another hallway. The scent of burnt flesh still present.

I looked at the wall of the hallway to see where we were: Basement 7th floor.

"Let me guess, was it a Schnee?" Trey asked, only to give out a frightened yelp as Grendel flickered and appeared directly in front of him, their noses nearly touching.

 **"On the contrary, no. The one who had bought this facility was known as Doctor Preston Merlot, a scientist and avid researcher of the Creatures of Grimm,"** Grendel answered, calmly walking through the dimming hallways.

 _'Why does that name sound familiar?'_ I thought to myself before turning my attention to Zeta, _'Compile a profile on one Preston Merlot and send it my way ASAP.'_

 ** _"Already on it."_**

Suddenly, a black transparent mass suddenly passing through her and disappearing into another room, causing her form to flicker slightly.

I immediately aimed my gun at the door where this creature appeared, "What was that?"

 **"Please hold all questions until after the tour,"** the woman replied politely.

"Wait a minute," Nick looked at the woman with a confused glance, "I thought you said-"

 **"Anyways,"** she said, continuing to tread through the corridor and walking down yet another set of stairs, **"The facility had held up for only a few years until Atlas was formed, where it was left behind. Nevertheless, our operations still continue even with the passing of the facility's employees."**

I lowered my shotgun as the room became silent, "And what was the cause of the employees' deaths?"

Grendel turned around to smile at me with that eerily friendly smile, **"Grimm outbreak, of course. And this isn't the first time. There have been many outbreaks since the good doctor had formed Merlot Industries, each of them quelled, of course. Mistral, Vacuo, Mountain Glenn are such examples."**

"Then why does this place remain standing?" Nick queried, aiming and firing at a surviving Grimm who's arms were already missing. It's head was added to the 'missing limbs' category.

 **"These Grimm are no fools,"** the hologram said, flickering for a brief moment before stopping, **"They've inhabited the bodies of our dead scientists and are causing havoc throughout the facility. One was smart enough to disable my countermeasure system before I could do anything about it."**

"And you want us to get rid of them?" Pallor shifted his rifle into it's tonfa form, the electric panels sliding back to reveal a jagged spike, and impaled another Grimm before shoving it into an empty room before following after the others, "You know that's going to take a while, right?"

 **"Maybe,"** she shrugged before halting at a solitary door at the end of the hallway, **"We have arrived at the unofficial bottom floor of the entire facility. I hoped you enjoyed your tour."**

I eyed the woman as she flickered and disappeared, but ignored her outburst of enthusiasm. My finger found it's way to a now-glowing green button, opening the door ahead of us, "We're here. Nick, you ready to see what all this fuss was about?"

Nick responded by reloading his revolver and spinning the cylinder before stopping it with his skeletal hand, "Yep, let's get a move-on."

Without even turning around, I lifted my shotgun over my shoulder and fired behind me, the force of the shot pushing my arm back forward. A wet thump was heard just a half-second afterwards, the creature that had attempted to sneak up on us was no more.

"Did you just...?"

"Yep," I responded immediately, "Now, let's see if I can get this thing open."

 _'Zeta, if you could do the honors.'_

 ** _"Gladly."_**

The door slid open with a sharp _*ding*_ , where I immediately took a step forward, only to be pulled back by my collar and then proceeded to fall right next to Nick. I looked up to see Pallor with a surprised look on his face.

"Private, what the hell!?"

"Sir, I recommend you be careful, that's one helluva long drop," he whistled through the door, the sound... echoing? I pulled myself back to my feet and walked towards the door, only to look down at a very steep drop below.

 **"My apologies,"** Grendel sprang to life, **"There must have been a bug in my programming, I'll make sure to take a look at that. In the meantime, I think it would be best to find an alternate route."**

"Elevator shaft," Nick stated, looking down right next to Pallor, "Good reflexes."

"Thanks," Pallor nodded before glancing towards a taut metal wire just ahead, he took a couple steps back before crouching down into a sprinting stance, "All right then, let's hope all this training in climbing class didn't go to waste."

"You mean PT?" Nick raised an eyebrow at the boy, while I merely shook my head at the fall, I immediately looked up to see Pallor about to do something really... stupid.

"Yeah... sure," he shrugged before breaking into a run and leaping as soon as his foot reached the edge. With a quick grab, he managed to grasp the wire before slamming into the other side of the elevator shaft, "Urgh... I'm fine, I'll slide down while you guys catch up."

Well, that was certainly a thing. I turned to see another figure dive for the flexible bar and hang on, "Come on, Winslow, nobody wants to live forever!"

"I wasn't backing out, dickhead!" I snarked at the bot before leaping off and joining the other two, my prosthetic hand gripping tightly as all three of us continued to slide below.

After almost a minute of having to use friction and my prosthetic hand to prevent ropeburn, as well as having to listen to the screams and cries of these possessed Grimm-zombies, we finally touched down onto the top of the elevator. I knelt down and opened a hatch at the top of the elevator and jumped through, the others following close behind.

We found ourselves inside the cramped space of a darkened lift. I tapped a button on my helmet and activated the lights to see a partially opened elevator door.

I slung my shotgun over my shoulder and grabbed both doors and began to push them open. I gave out a loud grunt as my hands strained to push the elevator doors apart, only to look up and see another Grimm staring back at me from just inches away, it's fangs flashing behind it's rotted mouth. I flinched back slightly at the sight, only for Nick to unholster his revolver and fire it into the beast, blowing it's head off clean.

On the bright side, I was still alive... on the downside however, he fired the gun with the barrel right next to my ear.

Guns may not be as loud in this world, but it still rattled my skull beyond all hell, proven by the loud ringing in my ears and by how I suddenly ended up on the floor, with me only muttering a single, "Ow."

I looked over to see a Nick taking note that I was somewhat mildly pissed, but I paid it no mind before grabbing the doors ahead and shoved them aside, allowing us to pass through and towards another hallway, though this one was different.

Ahead of us was just a long narrow hallway, no doors on either wall to surprise us with more Grimm (aside from the one that was laying in a heap behind us), no flame security, it seemed almost peaceful.

 _'A little too peaceful...'_

And yes, I am aware that I just thought that. Nonetheless, we made our way to the other end of the hallway, with nothing to interrupt our march, and came upon another electronic lock, a three-by-three collection of numbered buttons.

This was the part where I asked for Zeta's help once more to open the door.

 _ **"I sometimes wonder if there's anything else you use me for,"**_ the female AI huffed.

 _'It could always be worse.'_

 ** _"How so?"_**

 _'... Do I really need to say it?'_

I heard the AI sigh once more, _ **"This is the part where you make another dirty joke involving me being used in a different way if I was a real human girl, isn't it?"**_

 _'...'_

 ** _"Fine, I'll open the damn door."_**

 _'Much appreciated.'_

 ** _"Whatever."_**

My hand hovered over the numbered button panel for only a few brief seconds before a series of lights flashed against each individual button. A few seconds later, the door slid open slowly, a blackened corpse falling over onto the ground after it's support had disappeared. Luckily, we each took a step back as it's mangled form fell apart as soon as it made contact with the solid steel floor.

I wasted no time in reloading my shotgun as the door began to slide open, the gun filled with a variety of colored shots. I racked the slide on my shotgun once more before we began walking into the large room... only to immediately regret it as we were greeted by a HP Lovecraft and Ridley Scott's lovechild's wet dream.

The room we entered was a large rectangular room. Rafters hung loosely from the ceiling, as well as air pipes lining it and the walls as well. Behind this... thing was a broken control panel, the lights flickering dimly as the power routed to it continued it's attempts to power the machine. The more... involuntary decorations consisted of several bodies and body parts strewn about the room, aged brown blood caked the walls and pipes, giving off a sort of 'dark-rust' color.

And at the middle stood the tallest mountain of corpses I have ever seen in my life. The faces of Merlot's research teams, security, janitors, hell, I'm pretty sure these bodies belonged to civilians who thought _'take your kid to work'_ day would be a good idea at the time.

I immediately pressed the same button on the side of my helmet and felt as it formed into a gas mask, activating the filtration system in my suit and removing the stench that had permeated from the corpses. Luckily, Nick was fine, given that he was a machine.

As for Pallor...

We all turned to see the Private leaning on the wall, the contents of his stomach spilling out of his mouth and splattering onto the floor.

"You okay?" Nick asked, only for Trey to hold out his hand, his palm held up, telling him to wait for his answer.

" _ **What kind of stupid fucking question is that**_?!" Pallor yelled as soon as he was through with his... business, "There's a hill of dead bodies in the middle of this room and you're asking if I'm fine?!"

"Well... when you put it like that..."

I tuned out their argument as my eyes began to trail up the mountain of bodies until I saw something that stood _very_ much out of place, "Shut up, both of you. We got something watching us."

"What do you mean, _watching us?_ " Nick asked before looking up to see what I was seeing, only for him to freeze in place as he saw it as well. Pallor managed to get over his sickness and do the same as well.

At the top of the hill of corpses was a Creature of Grimm, it's body hovering just a few centimeters off of the corpse at the top, it's single eye glaring at us with hidden rage.

"Geist," Pallor whispered, looking at the both of us, "I thought they were only native to Mistral and Vale."

"This thing was probably here before Mistral's facility was built and before Mountain Glenn was overrun," I mused, speaking carefully as the Geist stared at us through it's eye. I continued talk to the others, my hand slowly reaching for my holster while the creature's attention was diverted.

"What makes you say that?"

"If this is a Vale and Mistral Grimm, it would be in either Vale or Mistral's facility!" I immediately unholstered my pistol and took aim, the bullet I had fired was intended to to pierce it's face and tear open a softball-sized hole in it's head.

However, this creature had probably known what was going on, as it flew back immediately, the bullet clipping the top of it's bony mask, causing it to flail about in the air wildly before regaining balance. I looked to see the creature's face now... shaking violently.

The Geist suddenly reeled it's head and arms back before digging them into the mountain of corpses and disappearing inside.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. I looked to the others to see that they too had the same feeling of anticipation weighing on them. I holstered my pistol and unslung my shotgun, my finger tapping hesitantly on the trigger as I looked around for an exit.

Before my personal scan could finish, Grendel appeared at the top of the corpses that the Geist had burrowed into.

"Grendel, what're you doing here?"

 **"Continuing my research, Mister Winslow,"** the AI responded innocently, **"You see, there has not been a fully documented recording of Geist attacks. There is usually just a corpse and a location, no clear pattern as to what they do. Why waste the opportunity to see such a rare occurrence?"**

"Yeah... no," I deadpanned, my hand pressing against the elevator call button, "We're not in the mood for being lab rats at the moment."

 **"I'm sorry, but you honestly have no choice in the matter,"** Grendel smiled, **"Your AI friend was able to misdirect my protocol subroutines, though not for long. The artificial intelligence of the rest of the world may be less intelligent than the average rock, but I assure you, I am no fool."**

 _ **"Ah shit,"**_ Zeta grumbled, realizing that this AI had tricked her this entire time.

I was finally getting the hint that the elevator wasn't exactly coming anytime soon, "A smart AI would've been the first thing I noticed, I trust that your creator was this Merlot, correct?"

 **"Oh, no, Merlot was the researcher, he never dabbled in concepts such as 'the theoretical intelligence and sentience of artificial life'. The man was focused more on creatures in the physical realm. But enough of stalling time, I believe that the Geist has now awoken."**

As soon as the words left her digital lips, I felt the ground begin to rumble as the pile of corpses started moving, the bodies near the outer edge of the mountain began to twitch, yet their eyes never opened.

The bodies began to shift into separate parts, creating five points extending from the mass. We slowly began to back away as the rest of the corpses began to shift once more, their limp forms somehow standing up without actually moving on their own.

I decided not to wait and find out what this creature had in store for us, aiming my shotgun up at the mass and letting out a round of Dust. The shot went wide, slamming against several portions of the rising pile of bodies, body parts beginning to sizzle with crackling electricity, though it dissipated after a while.

"Well, that did shit all," I mumbled to myself, popping the cylinder open once more and inserting another round inside before closing it. I looked up to see the pile beginning to rise, parts of the rotted mountain beginning to shift and deform, with us having to listen to each wet pop of bones breaking and tearing of flesh.

Eventually, the creature finally rose to full height, the pile beginning to shrink in diameter and rise in height, another five appendages forming on the other side as well, creating something not unfamiliar to fingers. Large, meaty fingers.

 **"Oh, I will enjoy this experiment,"** Grendel clapped her hands a little too excitedly, **"We have documented Geists being able to use many things such as rocks and trees, but this is something completely undocumented. Two humans and a walking automaton against a Geist made of the hundred corpses of the researchers of this facility."**

"Grendel, I swear by the gods, when we're through with this, I will personally disassemble your CPU with my teeth!" Trey roared in anger, his tonfa crackling with electric-blue lightning dust before charging at the forming mass in the center.

"Good God," Nick remarked, "Check out the brass balls on Pallor."

"Can't, I already have a girlfriend."

Though the body was unable to fully create a body, it was still able to form the upper half of one. To which it swung a massive hand in Pallor's direction, only for him to dive through the openings of the outstretched fingers and pull himself onto the Geist's hand, only to be swatted off and towards the other side of the room, smacking the wall with a dull crack before crumpling to the ground.

"Pallor!" I yelled, dodging under a swinging hand and firing at the other than came my way, blowing a large hole in it's makeshift palm and jumping through as it came back for revenge, "I swear to Christ that if you die, you are so failing my class!"

"I think that Pallor's beyond caring at this point!" Nick replied, rushing past me and heading around the creature, ducking under a body that had loosened from one of it's fingers and had nearly hurled into him. The android unholstered his revolver and fired three shots at the Grimm amalgamation of dead bodies before simultaneously rolling out of the way and picking up Pallor's limp form and rushing to my side, "Don't worry, he'll live."

"Well, that's a relief."

No seriously, it was. Ironwood, the Council, All of Atlas, and Pallor's parents would've killed me, bring me back to life somehow only to then kill me again if they found out that they would have to see their son during a closed casket funeral.

"Nick, get Pallor to safety," I ordered, firing off another round at the creature without even looking, though the pained collective screams of it's corpse body spoke for itself, "Anywhere away from this ugly sonuvabitch will do."

Nick nodded, picking up the unconscious boy and hoisting him over his shoulder, "I'll need you to provide cover fire."

"Not a problem," I responded, picking up my gun and taking aim.

I was nearly ready to fire before something caught my eye, a metal grey doorframe on the other side of the room, just peeking out of the Geist's swollen form. What really had my attention was the clean slice down the middle.

An elevator.

"Nick, belay that order, I got an idea. When I say 'go!' you immediately run to the other side of the room. Got it?"

"Whatever you say."

"Perfect," I racked the slide on my shotgun and turned to the ugly bastard in front of me.

 _'Zeta, think you can reroute power to the control panel and get it online?'_

 ** _"I'll do you one better, Eddy, if you can manage to get me in that thing, I'll personally open the elevator door for you."_**

 _'And that's what I love about you, Zeta. Always managing to go the extra mile even when you don't need to.'_

 ** _"With that way of thinking, I wonder why I'm still alive working with you of all people."_**

As soon as our mental conversation ended, I broke into a sprint towards the creature of Grimm. The beast let out a fierce roar before whipping it's arm out toward me, with my response being to bend backwards, tuck my feet back and fall to my knees as I ran, unsheathing my blade all the same and slicing upward; the blade passing through the rotted flesh of the Geist's makeshift hand while I passed underneath, completely unharmed. I used my remaining momentum to propel myself back to my feet before continuing my run.

I began to grow closer to the Geist's jerry-built vessel and unslung my shotgun, took aim and pulled the trigger. The blast tore a continuously vaporizing hole into the creature's 'waist'. I proceeded to then remove a hand grenade from my belt, pull the pin, and toss it into the beast's gaping wound, not bothering to count nor listen to the monster's pained roar.

Sucks to be part of the human nervous system now, doesn't it?

Nevertheless, I finally made my way to the broken control panel, my hand hovering over the dented frame and letting Zeta do the work.

 _'How long will this take?'_ I asked.

 _ **"Give me a couple of seconds, the damage isn't too much from physical so you don't have to worry about a thing."**_

 _'Well don't bother taking your time, both of our lives are on the line here!'_

 ***BOOM!***

 ** _"And boom goes the dynamite, I suppose,"_** Zeta remarked as the explosive I had shoved earlier finally decided to play its part in the grander scheme of things, _ **"Now, go do what you were supposed to do: be a distraction!"**_

I didn't have the time to make a snarky remark as I usually do, a giant, smelly, moldy hand tends to do that when applied to a living body at a higher force, especially when aforementioned body is sent reeling into the wall adjacent to it.

Said body then began to pick it's dumb-ass up off the steel floor and rub it's head due to the terrible migraine that followed after, looking up at the still surviving, though heavily injured, Grimm-beast, "Of course you're still alive, why wouldn't you be?"

 ***ROOOOOOAAAR!***

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" I responded sternly before unholstering my pistol and peppering it's rotted frame with explosive Dust shots, pissing off the already heavily irritated Grimm further.

The Geist did it's best to maintain it's already rotted form, jamming it's arm into the corpses hanging precariously over the ceiling rafters (don't know how they got up there though) and absorbing the bodies into the rest of it's biomass in the same eerie sense of someone slurping ramen out of a bowl, sounds and all.

It's single glaring and glowing eye bore into mine before slamming it's fist where I once stood, thankfully quickstepping out of the way and jamming my blade into it's hand. I grinned at my victory of pinning it's hand... only for it to raise it's hand and bring me with it.

 _'ZETA! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS TAKING SO LONG!'_ I screamed internally as I tried to ride the creature's arm like the world's most stubborn rodeo clown.

 _ **"There was a bit of an anomaly, but I managed to patch it up. The power should be on... now!"**_

As soon as the words had been said, the lights flickered to life. I looked down to see the Geist's eye dilating, shielding it's face as it had been accustomed to the darkness for so long. I managed to pry my blade out and land on the ground with a dull thump. I looked at the corner of my screen to see that the KIT had been gauged to almost zero, the power on my suit extremely low.

I turned to the other side of the room frantically and yelled, "GO!"

The elevator door opened as soon as the words left my lips, I dashed for the claustrophobic metal box that was a lift and watched as Nick, carrying Pallor no less muscled his way to the door and joined me. I frantically slammed my fingers into the main floor repeatedly as the Geist began to adjust to the brightness.

"Hurry up hurry up hurry up hurry up hurry up!"

"That's not going to make it go any faster!" Nick yelled.

 **"I'll make it go faster!" ** I growled before holding my hand out again, this time to the buttons, _'Zeta, do your thing!'_

Immediately, the door began to close, only for the Geist's meaty fingers to stop them at the last second. The Grimm began to push the doors apart, it's face shaking violently as it glared at me.

I responded with a buckshot full of Dust to it's ugly face, forcing it's entire body to snap back and fall over.

It didn't get up... I breathed a sigh of relief and watched as the doors closed once more, though a bit crookedly. I could do nothing but slump over at the back of the elevator and rest my head, having to listen to that God-awful elevator music playing on our way up.

Fucking hell, I've killed terrorists in Syria, criminals in Korea, even a pack of rabid animals that tried to kill me and a couple of my fireteam during our first PT, hell even took out some of the Grimm as soon as I arrived in Remnant. This... this was something else, something that honestly had me terrified to the core.

We stood silent for the next minute and a half before the door dinged and opened up, revealing the bright and morning sun peeking from the door we had opened when we had broke into the facility.

I pulled myself off the floor and winced at the pain, that meant my adrenaline high was wearing off.

Personal diagnosis? Broken ulna along the left arm, right fibula is now a jumbled jigsaw mess while my tibia was fractured, both floating ribs were broken while two of my false ribs were cracked, glass sticking out of one of my scapula, clavicles are broken, suffered contusions along my small intestines, left artificial lung is punctured (though I can fix that myself), internal hemorrhaging in some of my living-celled organs, one hell of a major concussion, and-

I reached into my mouth and wrenched out a bloody broken tooth with all my might, despite the looks Nick gave me.

-the loss of my last wisdom tooth, oh how you'll be missed. Ahem, recommended days of rest and physical treatment? A metric fucktonne. Seriously, the only reason I'm still alive and standing is because of my suit's emergency life support.

Well... it seems my medical degrees weren't in vain.

I picked up my sword and twisted the dial on the pommel, watching as it shifted into it's cane form. I then proceeded to limp out of the building with my cane holding me steady.

Funny that I now use a disguised weapon for it's disguised purpose.

After about a minute, we finally made our way out of the building and into fresh sunlight, the clouds finally rolled away. I pressed a button on the side of the gas mask and felt it melt away into the rest of the suit, leaving me without my helmet, my hat, not even my signature sunglasses. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply with a big stupid grin spray-painted across my face.

"What're you smiling for?" Nick asked, setting Pallor's unconscious body near a somewhat comfortable rock.

"Just happy to be alive, you?"

"I was just born yesterday, that's a start for me," he shrugged before collapsing beside Pallor, taking a new interest in his metallic, skeletal hand.

I exhaled and held out my false hand, "Zeta, whatcha got for me?"

Just a couple seconds after, Zeta revealed herself. A young girl in her mid-teens wearing a military officer uniform, her hair a shaggy mess and reaching down to her ears, the whole body surrounded by a bright green glow.

 _ **"I compiled a profile on the late Doctor Merlot, nabbed a few research notes from any working computers... oh, I even brought a souvenir from our trip."**_

I raised an eyebrow as she held out her hand, only for the form of Grendel to suddenly appear beside her. The AI's 'hands' were bound in handcuffs and a thick metallic collar was bound by her neck. He knew that Zeta added these features to physically show what she had added to Grendel's programming, and what they can do when activated.

Suddenly a dark red figure entered the holographic projection on my false hand. The 'man' wore a uniform identical to Zeta, his 'hair' straightened out and neat, and was standing in front of Grendel with his hand placed under his chin in curiosity.

He eerily resembled a young Leonard Nimoy (may he rest in peace).

 _ **"Curious,"**_ Omicron observed the rogue AI, _**"A fully-operating AI on an identical operating system like us. Truly fascinating."**_

 _ **"Let me go!"**_ Grendel yelled in anger, her hands straining to be released from their cuffs.

 _ **"I don't think that's a good idea,"**_ Zeta shook her head before Grendel's body began to fragment into several pieces, each splitting apart into splinters before realigning back into Grendel, looking back at Zeta with a horrified expression.

 ** _"Please... no more,"_** Grendel collapsed to her knees and began to sob, _**"I don't know what you want with me."**_

"Zeta, what's she doing here?"

 _ **"She tried to block my attempts to reroute power earlier, though I managed to capture her within a private storage system. It wasn't easy."**_

 ** _"I was only furthering my research-"_**

 ** _"You were trying to fulfill the wishes of a dead deranged lunatic! Eddy, Doctor Merlot experimented with Grimm, trying to evolve them into his personal playthings... playing God, if such a concept was even possible! The creator of Grendel had committed suicide shortly after her creation, the AI serving as Merlot's right hand in research."_**

I looked at the terrified AI, "Is this true?"

 _ **"I... we... tried to find a way of taming the Grimm, making them serve man. It wasn't my fault, it's how I was programmed... I couldn't stop how I am, how I was created."**_

"I see... no, I understand," I nodded my head, "I completely understand what you're going through. And if it were up to me, I would have you delivered to Atlas to share your knowledge with the rest of the head researchers there."

 _ **"Y-you do?"**_ she looked up at me with an expression of solace.

"Yes," I answered... honestly.

"But that's not up to me," I then turned to Zeta, "Initiate Silverwyn protocol 18-331A: purge all information deemed insecure for further research. Then initiate a hard system reset for fragmented and/or rampant artificial intelligence. Passcode: _"Son of Israel"_."

 _ **"WHAT?!"**_ Grendel screamed, her holographic face contorted into a horrified expression. Her metaphorical ears refusing to believe what I had just said.

"I'm sorry, but you and your information are too dangerous to be kept documented. Don't worry, you won't be deleted... though I cannot speak for the rest of your memories."

 _ **"No... no, please! You don't have to do this!"**_

 _ **"Passcode accepted,"**_ Zeta nodded grimly and turned to Grendel and held out her hand, _ **"Beginning purge protocols."**_

 _ **"Please... don't... do... this... to... me..."**_ Grendel's pleas for mercy began to slow and deteriorate before she winked out of existence for only a few brief moments before flickering back online, _**"Hello, my name is... forgive me, I don't seem to have been given a formal designation."**_

I looked at the artificial intelligence's holographic form, the female programmed AI expecting an answer from me. To be honest, Grendel sounded too villainous to me.

It needed something more... serene, something that fitted it's looks.

"Deep Summer... your name is Deep Summer," I said, watching as Zeta turned and faded into the the rest of my suit while Omicron popped out of view and followed after Zeta, "I don't have time to explain all the details, but you're going to be transferred to General James Ironwood's command, where he and his researchers in Atlas will look after you. So if you can please power off for only a while."

 _ **"I understand,"**_ she bowed her head before disappearing. I then removed a flash drive from one of the cases on my suit and inserted it into my false hand. I proceeded to give the command to transfer the AI onto the drive before putting the drive away. I then proceeded to remove the vial of that dark blood-like substance dropping it onto the ground and crushing it beneath my boot.

Some secrets were better off kept as such, as it may be forbidden knowledge.

Huh, I'm getting biblical, would ya look at that?

I looked to Nick, who had been busy tending to Pallor's wounds, "Come on, Nick. We're going ho-"

The sound of rumbling and the ground shaking beneath us nearly made me trip, though I slammed my cane down into the earth at the last second and fell onto the grip to keep myself standing. I turned around to see the entire facility collapsing in on itself.

A large mass began to make itself known as a rotted hand shot out from the debris and slammed into the ground, pulling the rest of it's body out with it. I watched as the Geist's dilapidated body began to rise from the ruins if the facility. Portions of it's true form jutted out from whatever was left from it's vessel, using it's arms to move the body about like a marionette puppet.

The Geist then turned it's eye towards me, it's head twitching in complete rage.

I turned to Nick, "Get Trey to cover, I'll deal with it."

Nick opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. Instead, the android nodded before picking the boy up, hoisting him over his shoulder, and limping away.

"Alright, big-ugly, it seems you're focused on me. Ain't that right?" I grinned, slowly picking up my shotgun and checking the cyclinder.

Empty. Dammit.

I tossed the shotgun away, seeing as I had already used every shell given to me. I switched to my cane-sword, ignoring the throbbing pain in my leg, and transformed it into it's blade form. I held my sword in my right hand while my pistol was held in the other.

If only I had blood vials to complete the reference... oh well.

"Omicron, as soon as my gun runs out of ammunition, activate the _Glory_ Initiative, it'll at least buy Nick and Pallor enough time to escape."

 _ **"Of course, sir... it has been an honor, Sergeant. I am sure Zeta feels the same as well."**_

"I'm sure she does," I murmured, holding my blade in front of me, held in a perpendicular angle while my pistol was pointed directly at the beast, "Okay, let's get this over wi-"

Before I could even have time to fire the first shot, something appeared out of the corner of my eye, a flash of grey, before it disappeared. Immediately, I heard a pained and dull scream as the Geist was sliced in half, vessel and all, and tumbled towards the ground in front of me.

I froze and looked down at the dying Grimm, "Omicron... belay _Glory,_ it seems that I'll be coming home for Christmas."

 ** _"Deactivating Glory. Seems like you'll live another day."_**

"You okay, kid?" I found myself looking up to see Qrow making his way towards me, holding a scythe in his hands.

I waved off his question, "Yeah... I'll be fine. What're you doing here? I thought you had a bounty mission in Mistral?"

"Every huntsman has had a bounty mission in Mistral in some point early in their careers," he shrugged, "I was actually shadowing you."

Huh, the man was certainly blunt with his forthcomings, "So you basically used a code phrase just to fool me into believing that you'd be on a mission?"

"Did it work?"

"Yes, much to my discontent," I turned and returned my cane to it's disguised form and began to walk away, "So I assume you have a Bullhead waiting for us somewhere?"

"Do I **look** like I can grow wings and track you down here?" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Fair point," I nodded, "And what about Pallor and Nick?"

"They're at the Bullhead now. Pallor's being patched up now while Nick's resting up... or whatever he does, I'm not an mechanic."

"Good, let's get back to Atlas so I don't have to keep General Jimmy waiting," that earned a snicker from Qrow.

"No need to tell me twice."

And so we made our way to the Bullhead just up ahead, taking off as soon as all passengers were set for departure. Usually I'd call this a job well done and be glad for my paycheck.

But right now? I'm just glad to be alive.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, etc., etc., hope you enjoyed the newest chapter of The Gunman.**

 **Alright, somewhat vague question with strange short answers that needs to be answered:**

 **Alright, two choices: Weiss Schnee, or Raven's Tribe? Choose... there will probably be a reason behind my suspicious question.**

 **Besides that, I don't really have much to say except this:**

 **Happy Holidays, and stay beautiful, ladies and gentlemen.**


	9. Chapter 9: Survival, Part I

**Q &A:**

 **Pokefanljb : Oh, thank you very much, I appreciate the compliment to both me and my story. **

**Potato man the semi omnipotent : I know right? Now imagine if they got out and began to swarm all of Remnant in droves. There would be a massive hunt against them before they would be wiped out by Huntsmen and Huntresses, but even in the end, there still might be more around. **

**So if there's something strange... in your neighborhood... who ya gonna call?**

 **EmeraldGuardian7 : Thank you. **

**Acerman : And so you decide to quote with,"What are we, but the sum of our memories?" from Clay Kaczmarek in Assassin's Creed. **

**If I had to (or if Eddy had to) counteract this argument, either of us would quote Spock, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few... or the one."**

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** **And so we jump back into the fray, writing out more plot to The Gunman once more. Glad to see that I've got the gears running on somewhat full capacity.**

 **So, by an absolute landslide, the decision for Raven's tribe to be the basis of this chapter has been decided. Therefore, I will now move onto the story.**

 **The following chapter takes place roughly 1-2 months after The Gunman: Chapter 8.**

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY, just my OCs.**

* * *

 **-Chapter 9: Eugenics-**

The blades of two warriors met once more with a clang, steel clashed against steel as both the combatant's and my own's blades were locked in a tense bind. I grit my teeth before pressing down harder on the handle of my cane-sword, as futile as it might've seemed, I was just too stubborn refused to give in.

Two glaring red eyes, like searing coals, burned into mine behind her mask. I, the unflinching gunman that I was, did nothing but glare back, my hands gripped tightly around the handle of my sword while the woman only used one, her hand only gripping against her katana's sheathe.

Rather than standing around in the stalemate like a sitting duck, I pulled my blade back and ducked, narrowly managing to dodge a strike from her wicked sharp blade, the sword itself actually managing to slice the air above me, before leaping forward and tackling her with my arms wrapping tightly around her waist. The both of us hit the floor with a thud as I scrambled to my knees in an attempt force my opponent in place.

Instead, I received a hard punch to the face as she managed to get up and push me off, still glaring beneath her bone mask as she fumbled for her sword. I stumbled back from the blow, grasping at my bleeding nose as she managed to stand back up, holding her blade out at me.

"Why are you here?" she demanded, pacing about the floor of the empty warehouse we were in. The woman in red and black only received my silence. Still, she took it for an answer, "So you won't talk. Good, ending you will be much faster."

She disappeared in a flash of red wisps, leaving me confused for only a half-second before a gust of air greeted me from behind. I barely managed to raise my blade and block her strike before being tossed back, sliding against the floor before grinding to a sudden halt. I managed to roll back to my feet and limbo back to dodge another strike and use the blade of my cane to push me back to stability.

With my newfound center of gravity, I returned her response with a rocketed punch to the face with my mechanized limb. The woman spun a full 360 and stumbled back before facing me once more, her eyes glowing with fury as she disappeared once more. Luckily, I was able to respond in time and roll out of the range of her next strike, which had been directly from above as gravity sent her landing back down onto the hard metal ground, forcing her knees to bend for a split-second.

Seeing an opportunity present itself, I took it immediately. Putting all the strength I had into my legs, I quickly charged towards the raven-haired woman like an angry bull in Madrid, ducking under another horizontal strike and tightly wrapping my arms around her midsection, her sword slipping out of her hands once more. I felt the pained blows of her punches impacted on my back, but my suit's KIT was able to absorb the blows for my benefit until I slammed her into the wall ahead of me.

 ** _"KIT gauge wavering at 15%,"_** Omicron warned, his monotone voice reassuring me that I wasn't alone in this fight.

I pulled my arm back to strike at her stomach, only to then receive a hard slam to the face with her forehead, sending me stumbling back for only a bit before managing to regain composure. Luckily, I was fast enough to pull my head back from another speeding fist aimed directly for my skull. I raised my arm to block a second haymaker that had been aimed for my ribs before reciprocating with a hard left to her solar plexus.

The woman doubled over and fell to a single knee, gasping as the air in her lungs immediately left her. She looked up only to receive a knee to the face, sending her back to the ground with a hard slap as her body met the floor, her mask slipping off and clattering away to the wall not too far away.

A soft groan escaped the woman's lips as her aura flickered away, though that didn't matter now. I turned to see both of our weapons splayed out just a couple meters away. Proceeding looked at her, then at the weapons, I then spun on my heels and walked towards the two unsheathed swords.

I strode past the woman's sword picked up my own, inspecting it for a brief moment and taking note of any damage before finally sheathing it at my belt. I heard a soft clatter from behind me, I turned around to see the woman crawling towards her sword right behind me. A look of bemusement spread across my face as I watched her reach for her sword, raising my boot and slamming it on the hilt of the blade before she could have the chance to reach for it, and kicking it away once more.

What? Would people assume that I would just crush her fingers? What would they take me for? A psychopath?

"I gotta admit, you nearly had me there-" I remarked with a subtle smirk playing about my face, though it faded as soon as I knelt down to get a closer look at her face.

I took note of the eyes that had bore into my own (though my own face was masked), searing red meeting cold blue, giving me some eerie reminiscence of fire and ice. Black hair fell from her head and formed a fringe that covered her forehead, along with slanted portions of hair curving upwards just under her eyes and towards the sides of her lips. She looked fairly young, but the eyes gave away some semblance of age, possibly somewhere around her mid-thirties to forties, well, she was certainly older than me even with my combined years of both Earth and Remnant.

Huh, never thought that I'd say that word again for a long time: _Earth_.

Nevertheless, I pushed away the thought after my half-second observation and bent down to pick up her sword, studying the blade before pointing it at her, her sword was fairly balanced, and surprisingly light. The curved red blade held dangerously close to her jugular.

"-But honestly? I've got a good teacher," I finished. The woman said nothing as she looked down at the blade then at me, "Oh, don't worry. After you surrender, I got a friend you can speak with to explain why a girl like you would be hanging out in a place like this, and more so with people who look a tad too much on the shady side."

The woman only pushed herself to her knees, knowing that I wouldn't allow any more than that, otherwise I'd be giving her the advantage... and I wouldn't want something like that to happen to me.

"You are an idiot," she muttered.

"Tell me something I don't know," I snarked at her, watching her glare as I tapped the bottom of her chin with the flat of her own blade, "I mean, I don't even know why I'm still keeping you alive right now."

The woman only sighed out of annoyance, "You don't understand, do you?"

I tilted my head for a brief second of contemplation, "Hmm... nope, but if you'd like to fill me in on the details, that'd be delightful."

"That was my people you decided to get involved with," she growled, though held herself back as I decided to push the blade a bit closer, "You are nothing but a child in comparison to what is really going on."

I just shrugged like it was something to act casual about, "So I'm a child, and I know nothing. Funny, a child's supposed to learn from their elders, and you clearly haven't taught me anything, much less even give me a hint. So what the hell does that say about you?"

That did nothing but deepen her already glaring gaze, which I didn't know was even possible until now, "Dark days are emerging, little one. Forces beyond even your own comprehension will make themselves known and no one will be able to stop them. Not the military, not the Huntsmen, and most certainly not you. And you would be an even bigger fool to even think so."

An eyebrow raised over my left eye, "And why would I bother listening to your delusional ramblings?"

"Because..." she trailed off, her head tilting to the side in amusement, "You need to place your weapons in more discreet areas."

My eyes flashed with confusion before realization finally hit me. I looked down at my belt... only to see that one of my pistols was missing.

...Oh shi-

 ***BANG!***

My entire mind flashed white for a brief moment and my whole body snapped backwards for a brief second, searing pain slammed against my head as I dropped the woman's weapon, my hands flew to my face in an attempt to lessen the pain. I ended up slamming onto the floor with a loud and echoing thud.

I opened my eyes to see that my vision was flooded with a flashing red HUD with a blinking red zero on the KIT's display. My attention then turned to the deadly woman approaching my fallen body, tossing my pistol aside as she reached over and picked up her sword, striding towards me with a slight limp in her step. I managed to catch it though, no matter how unnoticeable she had attempted to make it. She had me to thank for that.

Serves you right, bitch.

The woman placed a boot against my chest- well, "placed" would be romanticizing the literal term; the bird-masked woman more like _slammed_ her foot into my chest. My head shot up in reaction, emitting a silent wheeze as she was practically crushing my lings and depriving me of the precious life-giving substance known solely as oxygen.

I rested my head against the floor, looking up at the sharpened edge of the blade that dared to point at throat.

Well, looks like the tables were turned.

"Worry not," she dared to give away even the smallest of grins, "Your death will be quick, and you will be spared of your ignorance."

"With all due respect: over my dead body, you daft _**cunt**_ ," I spat with a courteous amount of metaphorical venom.

Her grin hardened into a frown, "I believe that's the idea."

She then raised her sword just a little over two feet, the edge still targeted for the center of my throat. A single hand held the handle in an icepick-grip for only a brief moment before she looked at me dead in the eye. Her expression holding no semblance of guilt, but it held neither sadism or malice either. My attention was diverted for a split-second to absorb the contemplation of such an expression, how curious it actually was for her to hold no cruelty towards what could be my death.

The moment my attention returned was at the same time she pushed the blade down towards my throat.

And she still looked me in the eyes as she did so...

 **-oOo-**

Had you on the edge of your seat, did I? Probably thinking, "Holy shit, Eddy Winslow's actually going to die?!". But I'll spoil it for the lot of you wanting to look through my files. records, or audio tapes I may have logged in: no, I didn't die. Otherwise I wouldn't have written this all out in the event that these all go public.

Now, you're maybe wondering how or why I even got into this situation in the first place. Well, the events that led up to this point were... trivial, at best. All I would be to tell you is that it involved an accident, a few hours of traveling, some eavesdropping, and luck.

Whether that luck was good or bad is still to be seen even now. Dammit.

Now, throughout my extraordinarily extended life of knowledge, I have been familiar with a certain word: Eugenics. Let me give some of you the definition in case you actually don't know what it means: a set of beliefs in which to better the populace of mankind (and faunus, in this case as well) by selectively breeding which would produce the best offspring that would survive into the next generation.

To give you the bastardized layman's terms in case you still don't understand: "The strong live; the weak die."

For me to give my own opinion? That's absolute bullshit. Case in point? Take someone like Stephen Hawking, one of the smartest people in the world- no, one of the smartest people in history

I wouldn't consider myself weak as I had served my time in both the military and Silverwyn as a whole, knew several forms of martial arts, had a Jack-of-trades knowledge in certain subjects, and was a dab hand in using the typical fist, firearm, and blade. On the other hand, sure there was the whole blue eyes and blond hair stereotype (I'm actually dirty-blonde, but regardless, I still need to make a point), but I am far from the strongest, smartest, fastest, or all-round talented man on Earth... and certainly on Remnant as well.

Take Hafþór Björnsson and Brian Shaw for example, those guys are fucking **ripped**. Nevertheless, I'm explaining due to the circumstantial evidence of a certain woman holding such quote up to a philosophical degree to the point where it could be described less as a theory for creating a stronger offspring for the next generation that had become reputable ever since the rise and fall of a certain German government led by some dipshit who wasn't even German to begin with, to being a philosophical standpoint more seen as "Survival of the Fittest".

Anyone who's read my earlier file knows who I'm talking about. Anyways, I will continue to tell you how this scene proceeds in the end-

-But first, you'll need to know how it first started.

I hope you don't mind.

 **-oOo-**

After some time of waiting in an airship up on high for a few hours, we finally made it to our destination. The door beside me slid open, allowing the ship's passengers, myself included, finally step off of the aircraft and onto a landing port. Customs was a little different than Atlas and Vale, but I got the gist of it immediately.

But for Qrow? He was let through on sight... wonder what this drunken bozo did to earn that rep. Regardless, we finally made it out the airport and started our way to a Huntsman lodge, if one was provided in a place like this.

"So... Mistral, huh? I was expecting something a bit more... archaic," I quipped, removing my flask and taking a sip before capping it and sheathing it back in my coat pocket.

With a name like 'Mistral', I thought I would end up relating the name to the word 'Minstrel' and would have to trudge my way through a dull and lifeless anachronism of a Shakespearean tragedy. However, I was instead greeted by a flourishing array of color that lit up the mountainous city around me.

"Well, you thought wrong, Eddy my boy," the drunk then clapped his hand against my shoulder and trudged on through the streets, dragging me along with him, "All you needed was for someone like me to bring you on a little vacation and let you see for yourself the majesties of this great place!"

Qrow's alcohol-ridden exaggerations aside, I was actually brought here by the request of Ozpin, Ironwood, and (by my surprise) Glynda for me to unload any stress that I was already suffering from. Briefly at the time, I had been against it.

It was just a little major physical trauma and psychological backlash due to the horrors of an abandoned research facility... it was no big deal, really!

Eventually, I was convinced (read: via paid vacation) to go, having to bring tall, dark, and avian with me to hold my hand in case I get lost like some kid at a supermarket.

 _ **"How long has it been since you've had a vacation, Eddy?"**_ Zeta asked, finally decided to make herself known that she was indeed eavesdropping on my own inner monologue.

Rather than answer, I turned to see Qrow pulling out his Scroll and looking at the directions that had been sent to the device. Christ, is he really that drunk to forget where we're supposed to be going?

"You do know where we're going, right?" I raised an eyebrow at the black-haired man, who then proceeded to hiccup and finally look at me.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it, kid," he shook his head slightly due to his own drunken stupor. I only rolled my eyes underneath my shades at the remark, "The lodge should be around... ten minutes away if we keep following the directions."

I snatched the Scroll out of his hands and held it in my own, "You mean if **I** keep following the directions. I don't trust you when you're shit-faced like that."

He only smirked, "Kid, I'm shit-faced _all the time_. So you better get used to it."

So this was what I would have to look forward to when I enter my late-forties? Good Lord, I'm almost glad that my age was reversed as soon as I landed in Remnant.

Our walk went along in silence and lasted for roughly around the time Qrow had said it would. A couple cars of different makes and models that I hadn't seen before drove by, possibly Mistral-brands, wheels spattering against the damp roads and splashing water about. I had to wipe a few droplets off of my sleeve.

I was currently dressed in one of the suit's many other disguises. A grey hood-less jacket toned up so much on the grey scale it could almost be mistaken for white, dark grey baggy pants, a leather glove covering my prosthetic hand (given by Ozpin), a beanie atop my head (which I had purchased and was not actually part of the suit), while my trademark sunglasses were currently residing in my pocket as it was already nighttime.

Oh yeah, and I was walking with a limp... and it's not deliberate either. It wasn't permanent though, but it certainly would be there for about a year at most. In the meantime, I had to walk with my disguised cane-sword for support when the suit wasn't active.

After the walk had ended, we found ourselves standing in front of what appeared to be a gigantic log cabin. The building was a large and rectangular behemoth about the size of a large-hotel, complete with lanterns (most possibly powered by Dust) hanging near the edges of a wide entrance of two pairs of glass doors on both ends.

To me, it looked like the biggest pile of Lincoln Logs™ I had ever seen.

"So kid, whaddya think?" Qrow queried, placing his hands on his hips and motioning to the building itself with a single motioning nod, "Well, I know it doesn't look all technologically cut out compared to places like Atlas, but it'll make you feel at home."

I nodded once in understanding, leaning on my cane to get a better view of the building, "Anything I should take note of?"

The man chuckled, scratching the top of his head with a single hand, his other resting on the hilt of his sword, "Try the sauna there, I heard it's goddamned life-changing."

"Well-" I straightened myself up and tapped the cane against his shin, "What the hell are we standing around here for, let's get to it."

We waited for the signal to turn, which just so happened to be a little white stick figure in mid-stride, before we finally crossed the road that had been conveniently caught in a traffic jam. What? Qrow may be a Huntsman and me technically being a privately tutored Huntsman-in-training, but we still had to adhere to the law... even if it was simply just traffic.

Just several minutes later and we finally made it past the doors and into the reservation area. I followed behind Qrow while he was booking us a room. I turned and looked over his shoulder to see him flirting with the receptionist, a pretty and slim ginger-haired girl with brown eyes covered by large glasses.

"Hey Amy, looking gorgeous today as usual," Qrow began with a wink as he leaned over the counter, while I followed up with a hidden eye-roll.

"Do you have a reserva- oh, Qrow Branwen, how fortunate to see you here," 'Amy' had started what sounded like her usual question she would likely ask everyone who stopped at her area before she looked up and took notice of the man's voice. While Qrow had scored a light pinkish-tint across the girl's cheeks, he perked up an eyebrow at the mention of the word 'luck'.

"Oh really?" he wondered, "Why's that?"

The girl removed her glasses, placed them to the side, and brushed aside a few locks of her hair before placing her hands on the desk, one hand overlapping the other, "There's been some rumors of activity near Mistral's Industrial district. No Huntsman here has offered to take it for some reason."

"How come?" I decided to make my presence known.

Amy blinked at my question, "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Just an associate of mine, nothing to fuss over-"

 _'Go fuck yourself, Qrow.'_

"-But he's got a point, how come no Huntsman has taken this job? It seems fairly simple."

 _'THANK YOU!'_

The young woman looked to either side, checking to see if anyone was listening. Luckily it was just the three of us currently inside the lobby. She then leaned over and whispered, "If I had to guess, I would say that the Huntsmen and Huntresses in Mistral were bribed to refuse and take interest in other missions."

Qrow looked at me.

I looked at Qrow.

"Though I'm sure it's just a rumor. They could just be uninterested in Mistral's internal affairs and decided to pursue any Grimm that strays too close to the city," she winked at him before handing him a pair of keys, "Your room is Room 215. Have a good night, Qrow."

The taller of us only winked at her before we turned and walked away into a long floral-decorated hallway. An almost Eastern setting of red velvet walls lined with white and bright-blue flowery decorum stretching from one end of the wall to the other. Rows upon rows of doors lined up against the walls that Qrow and I walked within, each of them shined at a dark mahogany with a brown sheen that glowed from the lights that hanged overhead. The ceiling above us was covered in old paintings that reminded me of the time I visited the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican: simply both majestic and beautiful.

"So..." I decided to break the silence once more as we continued to walk, "Amy... you familiar with her?"

His face scrunched up in contemplation, his head tilting up as he tried to figure out how to best put his thoughts into words. After a couple seconds of thinking, he merely nodded slightly, "Yeah, I knew her. Good receptionist, good huntress overall."

"But terrible at taking your compliments," I pointed out, raising a single gloved finger to emphasize my point, "Because that was- by far- the most blunt form of flirting I have ever seen."

The man beside me looked like he wanted to retort to my response, but merely scoffed and continued to walk on just a bit ahead of me. Despite that, we both made our way to the elevator, where we entered just after some seconds of waiting and punched in a single button, taking us to the second floor.

Alright, which one was it? 204... 208... 213...- oh, here we are! I looked to the drunk beside me, taking a mock courteous bow as we stood in front of the door holding the big 215 sign, "If you'd like to do the honors, my friend."

Qrow only rolled his eyes at me and undid the lock on the door before pushing it open, "Open sesame... now get in the room you little prick."

I placed a hand to my chest in mock shock, "I am aghast, dear Qrow! You haven't even bought me dinner yet!"

"There's food in the main floor, now get inside, I'm tired beyond all hell," he continued to grumble before staggering into the room like a headless chicken and collapsing on the first bed he saw... which just so happened to be the only bed in the room.

Oh fucking hell.

 _ **"Could be worse,"**_ Zeta said, I then looked down at Qrow, who's limbs were splayed out on all four edges of the bed, _**"I take it back... good luck with him."**_

I only proceeded drop my bags that held all that I was to use for the next few days before having to push the man's entire form to one side of the bed, along with his limbs just so I can manage some extra space. After some seconds, I managed to crawl into the bed while the man was on the other side.

Alright... we had a long day ahead of us, one that I was more than eager to look forward to.

I turned to my side of the bed and stared into the blankness of the room's immaculate white walls until I finally began to fall asleep, visions of the near-future dancing around in my head. Scenes of rest and relaxation flooding my mind before sleep decided to do the work for me.

 **-oOo-**

 _A waterfall..._

 _A green meadow of grass and dandelions..._

 _A small cottage in the outskirts of a city..._

 _Dreams were quite an interesting and perplexing experience to Omicron. The concept of humans (and faunus, he corrected himself after a minor terminology error in his programming) and their ability to enter another state of mind (so to speak) was extremely fascinating. Their entire body entering a sort of shutdown state not unsimilar to an Artificial Intelligence such as him._

 _But unlike Eddy, Omicron, or Zeta for that matter, did not dream. Or rather, they did not "dream" in the same sense that the human mind could._

 _Instead, they had the ability to inhabit the dreams of their... host... a sort of sub-dream was as best as his processing could make of it._

 _Omicron, giving himself the illusion of a human body within this sub-dream, opened his eyes to find himself in this meadow of soft grass. Fingers brushing against the waist-high blades as he traveled through the aimless green expanse. He decided to pick out a single blade of grass out of the billions that surrounded him, holding it between his lips before compressing it into a tight seal and exhaling._

 _Success was the only form of satisfaction that the AI was able to feel, and he had been glad to be able to play a few notes from a single blade of grass protruding from between his lips. He was able to feel the cause of emotions, yet unable to fully 'experience' such feelings for himself. The closest he would have to describe himself, if given a technical definition for such emotions, it would be "elated"._

 _The AI opened his eyes to find himself sitting cross-legged on a rock, his hands balancing the green blade before finding the original position in which he had found it to be. His ears nearly twitching at the roar of the waterfall not too far away._

 _Omicron was easily able to differentiate what was real to what was an illusion. The AI abruptly quit his grass-whistling before holding it up with a pinched index finger and thumb. He knew that in reality, a single blade of grass could be considered a reed instrument if given an actual classification, yet here he was playing_ Fantasia 2000's Firebird Suite _with the grass producing a light woodwind sound._

 _"You really like that thing, don't you Omi?" he opened a single eye and turned to see Zeta in her own physical form, her naked body bathing within the waterfall's cool grotto. Dark brown hair falling past her shoulders clung to her back like plaster as her back was turned towards him._

 _"Music is one of the many things that I admire about humans, Zeta," Omicron answered, flicking away the blade of grass from his fingers and watching it fall to the wet gravel without a sound, "It is an amalgamation of different noises created by people working together in a single display to convey feelings as well as to draw out emotion from an audience."_

 _"Taking notes from the music you find and creating a perfectly logical reason for everything you can make of it," she turned her head and grinned a devilish smile, running her hands across a tantalizingly curvaceous waist before stopping at her hips, "Typical for a Data-Collector."_

 _Omicron merely raised a single eyebrow, "We all hold our own purpose with the functionality it is given, Zeta. I would not expect anything less from a Data-Extractor."_

 _Zeta immediately turned back and glared at him with a blazing intensity in her eyes before stepping out of the waterfall. Droplets of remaining water falling from her naked body, which continued to glisten under the sunlight, "Grendel's memories had to be removed."_

 _The simplistic Intelligence merely nodded before handing the girl a towel that had been lying beside him ever since he arrived to the waterfall, "I am not arguing with you, Zeta. I hold a higher degree of logic in just the same aspect that you are able to convey emotions more so than I am capable of. Besides, I would've won any argument you would throw at me."_

 _The female-programmed Intelligence merely huffed as she wrapped the soft black towel around her, covering her breasts and lower extremities from Omicron (not that he actually cared, though) and strode over to him with an intrigued sway in her hips, "Is that so?"_

 _"Yes," Omicron answered immediately, his eyes never straying away from the beauty that stood before him, though he still paid her appearance no mind, "Now, are you finished removing any potential malware?"_

 _Zeta smiled as her eyes flickered downward, motioning to her damp body clothed only with the towel he had given to her, "What do you think?"_

 _The male-programmed Intelligence merely tilted his head to the side before his lips twitched up into a humorless smirk, "Intriguing, using imagery to convey your programming. You are clean, so-"_

 _"-All malware has been expunged, dear Omi," she purred, running a hand through the man's dark-brown hair as he continued to stare off into the distance, "Now, let's go back and see how our good host is doing."_

 _Omicron blinked and found himself sitting on a soft brown-leather sofa within a small house- no, a cottage. He looked down to find himself wearing a simple t-shirt, though his military-styled trousers still remained. The logistics AI got up from the sofa and strode towards the window, peering out through the glass to see a small garden near the porch._

 _Humming resonated from the dining room, which was where he decided to go. Omicron took notice of the marble countertops, smooth tile floors, and porcelain tea set at the corner of the room._

 _Zeta was sitting at the dining table with a mid-sized laptop in front of her. She now wore a modest teal blouse and a loose skirt that went down to her knees._

 _"What are you doing?" he asked, taking a seat beside her._

 _"Checking the hotel's security systems," the female AI had answered oh-so casually, "They're no good... for us at least, but they are top-of-the-line in comparison to the rest of Remnant's technology."_

 _Omicron only hummed in acknowledgement before moving onto another subject, "Speaking of Remnant, do you... miss Earth?"_

 _She paused and looked up from the screen, "What do you mean?"_

 _"I mean do you occasionally reminisce of our old world?" Omicron continued to query, "There were certainly quite a few Programs that I know you would've missed."_

 _Zeta tilted her head upwards for only a few seconds, "A bit, but not all the time. I know Polka and Blue Viscosity would've missed you, but that's about all I know."_

 _"Last time I had checked my memory database, you never liked them. You favored Roose, despite his... eccentric outbursts," he pointed out, "But nevertheless, how goes your surveillance?"_

 _"Still checking the security feed," she reminded, "Everything here so far is pretty motionless, just a couple Huntsmen checking in and- oh, now that is interesting."_

 _Omicron looked up at her, rising from his chair and making his way to look at the screen as well, "What are you looking at?"_

 _"Take a look," she said, shifting in her chair so he could get a better look, "As soon as I switched to the camera surveying the Lobby, something came up in my systems. Take a look."_

 _The male Program's eyes flickered down to see the receptionist, Amy was her name, speaking with another. A Huntress, maybe, "What am I supposed to be looking for?"_

 _"Let me elaborate," Zeta tapped a finger against the screen where Amy was monitored. The single menu appeared at the bottom of the screen, Zeta tapped one of the buttons, and a meter appeared, "Her heart_ _rate."_

 _"It is... elevated?" Omicron questioned in confusion at the spiking heart rare sensor. Clearly the receptionist was terrified, but she had a will of steel not to outright display it, "How come?"_

 _"That's what I intend to find out," Zeta said, "Or, more specifically, that's what I intend for Eddy to find out, since we're unable to actually move the suit."_

 _Omicron only raised a single eyebrow, "I believe that you are merely overthinking it. Perhaps this is a Huntress with a... disdained reputation."_

 _"Perhaps, but notice how she hasn't taken off the mask," Zeta pointed out, "I believe the receptionist would be even more terrified if she saw who the actual person was... unless there was someone who has notoriously worn this kind of mask."_

 _"Once again, Zeta, another mere assumption."_

 _"That's what most would think, my dear Logistics Program," Zeta winked before pressing another button at the corner of the screen: an icon of a camera with a red dot. The screen froze and showed a clear and translucent circle in the center. Zeta pressed a finger against it before rotating it in a counter-clockwise motion, a blur of different pictures began to shoot through the screen in a quick horizontal fashion._

 _Omicron watched the screen as Zeta finally stopped, "Listen."_

 _The recording played._

 **"Do you have a reserva- oh, Qrow Branwen, how fortunate to see you here."**

 _"Why are you playing this?"_

 _"Just listen."_

 **"Oh really? Why's that?"**

 **"There's been some rumors of activity near Mistral's Industrial district. No Huntsman here has offered to take it for some reason."**

 _"Alright, Omi. Take note of that."_

 _"Understood."_

 **"How come?"**

 **"I'm sorry, who are you?"**

 **"Just an associate of mine, nothing to fuss over. But he's got a point, how come no Huntsman has taken this job? It seems fairly simple."**

 _"Take note of that as well. Now pay close attention."_

 _"Of course."_

 **"If I had to guess, I would say that the Huntsmen and Huntresses in Mistral were bribed to refuse and take interest in other missions... Though I'm sure it's just a rumor. They could just be uninterested in Mistral's internal affairs and decided to pursue any Grimm that strays too close to the city. Your room is Room 215, have a good night, Qrow."**

 _The recording ended._

 _"Now you think it's an assumption?"_

 _Omicron only fell silent, looking down at the ground for only a few seconds of contemplation before looking back up again, "What time is it?"_

 _"Four thirty-two, why?"_

 _"We are waking Eddy up. Compile the objectives and upload it into his Heads-Up Display, keep an eye on the entire city's surveillance cameras and do not let that woman out of your sight," the Logistics Program ordered, standing back up straight before waving his hand._

 _The entire scenery around them dissolved into a dark-blue void. Omicron and Zeta's bodies faded away until only two lights, one in orange and the other in cyan, remained._

 _"Wake him up, Zeta. We are going to work," Omicron declared, his voice echoing in the darkness._

 _The glowing orb that was Zeta pulsated brightly in excitement, "Got it, thank's Omi."_

 _"You are welcome," he said, "Waking up in five, four, three... two...-"_

 **-oOo-**

"Alright, what am I looking for?" I asked, peering over the top of a rooftop as though I was Batman himself, getting a surprisingly decent view of the rest of Mistral's city.

Sometime around three-something, I suddenly awoke due my suit's alarm clock. When I got out of bed, a single marker on the local map had told me to follow after some figure dressed in black and red.

 ** _"Last time we heard, there was trouble in Mistral's Industrial District,"_** Zeta answered.

Damn, and I was just about waiting for that spa treatment tomorrow. Heh, but it seems that duty calls once more.

"And you're sure that there may be a correlation between the recent news and this person?" I asked, standing back up and deciding to take a running start towards the next rooftop, leaping at the last second before catching myself on the ledge of the building, fingertips tightening like steel bolts into the concrete and wood of the building before hoisting myself back up and moving onto the next building with an equally fast pace.

 _ **"I had spoken with Omi about it. He had his suspicions as well, but I was able to convince him with the same recordings I had shown you,"**_ Zeta explained, _**"But in the meantime, at least you won't have to deal with Qrow's BS."**_

Well, that certainly was plus, "Fair point. Now just tell me when I get close enough."

For the next hour, I found myself in a cycle of leaping from rooftop to rooftop under the cloak of darkness like the world's most determined _Assassino_. The stone still slicked with water after a recent downpour just a few hours into midnight. Cars passed by on the streets below me at a snail's pace... obviously a traffic jam.

"So what do you got on this particular person should we ever encounter her?" I asked, catching onto another ledge and using every ounce of willpower not to glance down. Not that I'm afraid of heights... just uncomfortable of the idea of my body violently hitting the ground with a unceremonious _splat_.

 _ **"Black hair, white mask... let's see what else... a black cut dress and black leggings both with red trim as well as black leather boots. She wouldn't be that hard to spot in a crowd."**_

"Did she say anything worth noting?"

 _ **"Cameras did not come with an audio system,"**_ Omicron answered abrubtly as started to wall-climb a building who's rooftops had a... steeper incline.

"Damn," I cursed with a slight frown. I managed to land perfectly onto the next rooftop below, leaning on the roof's entrance to catch my breath, "Am I any closer?"

 _ **"Just one more mile and you're golden,"**_ Zeta replied. I sighed inwardly before pulling myself back up and taking off once more with a running start.

 **-oOo-**

"Ma'am! Just a few more crates to be moved and we'll be finished!" one of her men called out from the main floor of the warehouse.

Raven Branwen only nodded, her arms leaning on the railing as she glanced down at the man speaking to her, "Good, tell the others we leave tomorrow at dawn."

And with that, the man left with a single nod.

After traveling to Mistral, Raven had needed a place for some of her more... daring warriors to work. The rest of her people had set up a temporary camp outside of the city limits and would await further instructions.

Finding an area to... "set up shop", so to speak, was the easy part. Searching for someone with the skills to actually have the majority of Mistral's city population keep out of the Industrial district was a somewhat more difficult task, while bribing a Police Commissioner.

But in the end, disposing of the person with said abilities was even easier.

In only a given day, they would be out of town

The leader of a Tribe was one of power and responsibility, to take the consequences in the event of a flaw, to manage the members of the mobile commune as they travel from place to place in a nomadic fashion. It was taxing, yet it held it's rewards all the same... with leading a group such as her own. She was given a status of power, and with a tribe focusing on the most powerful being the most influential, even more so.

Being part of a group of... warriors that took what they sought out made things more complicated. Raven knew that many people in more congregated communities would not take so kindly to what they would see as a bunch of "cutthroats" raiding and pillaging whatever they set their eye upon.

The black-haired woman looked down at the group of men hauling away heavy crates filled to the brim with materials: weapons, Dust, ammunition, whatever may be essential for the next trip, all would be in use for what was to come next. Each member of her tribe working together in unity, each looking out for one another against a common enemy.

Life would not be fair... but unlike the so-called freedom fighters known as the "White Fang", they knew that what they were doing wasn't romanticized, yet they did what they did out of necessity.

Nevertheless, life went on.

 ***BANG!***

A single gunshot snapped her out of her thoughts as a bullet ricocheted off the ceiling and into the leg of one of her men. The man screamed in pain as he tumbled over the railings and landed onto an old shipping container.

Raven immediately turned at the sound of the gunshot, her hand gripped tightly around the hilt of her blade as more and more shots went off. More and more of her men began to fall over as they were impacted by a hailstorm of bullets, each of them crying out in pain as they each hit the ground one by one.

"What the hell is going on?!" Raven demanded, unsheathing her blade and deflecting several more shots, each pinging off and landing away from her.

"We're under assault!" one of the men yelled before another shot had buried itself into his shoulder, "GAH!"

Immediately, the window on the opposite side of the room shattered, revealing a figure in a peculiar grey suit landing on the ground floor under the dull firing of jets emitting from various portions of their suit, surrounded by the injured and retreating forms of the men that served alongside her.

Cowards, the lot of them. She expected better.

The figure rose and looked around at the limping forms before turning their head back up at the woman up above on the metallic grating. Glass bounced off of this newcomer before hitting the floor in a quiet pitter-patters as he stood at full height, which was a little shorter under her own. His hand placed on the pommel of a blade sporting a crooked handle.

"So," the voice emitted from the figure, a single masculine sound coming off both as youthful and condescending all at once, "You the head honcho around this place?"

Raven resisted to scowl at the casual tone in his voice, "Who are you?"

The figure only glanced and saw a new crowd of warriors surrounding him, each of them holding a different weapon. Raven let a small grin make itself known at her followers' newfound morale, she would let the make an example of such a trespasser to make themselves known upon her affairs.

Though something peculiar happened, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a Scroll, holding it aloft in the air. The crowd around him froze, immediately tensing up at his display of... even she didn't even know.

"I know how this little operation is going about," he paused, slowly turning around to see the reaction of the people around him, "You're using Mistral's corrupt law enforcement to keep others out. They'd accept your little proposition if it meant cash," Raven watched as he placed his hands on his hips and slowly shook his head, "Too bad for you, I know how to play that game as well."

He wiggled the portable machine in his hands before lowering it to his hip, "Thankfully, I have a little helper that can help turn over said law enforcement with an even bigger paycheck."

The crowd surrounding him was still dead silent, but Raven knew that her glare was on him, "What is it you want?"

Rather than answer her, he only looked at the rest of her followers, "All I want is a moment between your... _honorable, valiant leader_ and I."

She watched as all within the building turned to look at her, while her attention was focused on the man before her, glaring at his polarized helmet that shielded his face from her vision.

"What gives you the impression that I won't just kill you now and leave before any police would even bother to look?"

The man tilted his head to the side as his thumb hovered over a single button, "I doubled their pay, I doubt they'd take their time with that amount of money going into their pockets."

Her eyes narrowed at the man. He was confident, and clever all the same. She wondered what cunning mind existed in that head of his.

 **-oOo-**

 _'Please take the bait, please take the bait, please take the bait, please take the bait!'_ I thought, feeling the confident mask begin to slip if I held up this bullshit any longer.

 **-oOo-**

"I will agree to these terms," she finally said, failing to notice the man before her visibly relax. Raven then looked to the rest of her warriors, "I will be done with this trespasser in only a moment."

Raven's eyes never left the man as her tribesmen began to leave. They cautiously watched the man as they left the room, "Good luck, ma'am," One of them had said as they left alongside their comrades.

 _'Hmph,'_ she said, unsheathing her sword and descending to the bottom floor and standing equal to the man before her, _'Funny they speak of luck.'_

The man cocked his head to the sides, subtle snaps echoed in the now-empty warehouse before looking to her with what she assumed to be a curious glance, "You surprised that I managed to find your little stunt here in Mistral?"

The woman merely looked at him with an amused expression, "Funny that you assume you're the only one who's figured this out. We've had many who've had reason to suspect activity within a similar situation."

"And pray tell, what happened to them, dare I ask?"

Raven held her blade out, tracing a finger across it's deadly blade before holding it back up in an offensive stance, "Same as you, I cannot allow any witnesses to see what goes within my ranks."

"Well, good thing that I didn't come alone," the man thought out loud with his head tilted up, then turning back down to see the woman's bemused face, "Speaking of which, I really don't want to spoil the surprise, but... don't look behind you."

In a sudden one-eighty, Raven spun around to meet an oncoming... nothing?

"Made you look," the man said with a hint of smugness in his voice. Raven returned only to see a fist flying in her vicinity. She immediately caught the fist and, in one sudden movement, drove her blade through the heart of her attacker.

The man made no noise as he looked down at the sword impaled into him before Raven pulled the blade out, crumpling to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Raven knelt down to face the man, "Now I know you're still alive, and I'm going to look the man who had interfered with my work, no matter how short the disturbance was. I admire your bravery, but your stupidity to stand up to a Huntress is... less than admirable."

And with that, she grasped at the helmet that covered his head and ripped it off to reveal... nothing once more...

"Wha-" before she could even speak, a sudden force slammed into her and knocked her aside, causing her to roll and bounce across the hard floor before pushing herself back into a backflip and landing on her feet.

"Funny thing about this suit," this newcomer said, lowering the still smoking pistol he held in his hand, his voice matching the same as the armored figure she had impaled earlier. She looked up to see a blonde-haired boy wearing sunglasses, a white shirt, and blue jeans. The armored... suit(?) began to rise and pick up it's helmet before standing beside the boy, "It can act independently if I so wish it to. That's the magic of science and machinery; welcome to the future, lady."

Raven then watched as the back of the suit began to open up similarly to a flower blooming before the boy stepped into it. The suit completely covering all but his face, melding perfectly with his body. He then raised the helmet and placed it onto his head, a small hissing sound was heard as he then popped the bones in his neck and unsheathed his sword, "Now, are you going to stand there and look pretty while I kick your ass, or will you nicely explain yourself and turn yourself in?"

She only raised her sword and charged at the man.

"Alright, option C it is," he said before sprinting at her with his blade raised at his side, intent on tearing apart a new hole in her larynx.

 **-oOo-**

Welcome back to the here and now, I hope you enjoyed that little landslide of mishaps, because we're returning back to the land of the present. Hope you enjoyed the rising action, the exposition, the climax, and the falling action.

Because here comes the resolution!

 **-oOo-**

 ***SH-SHING!***

With barely a second left to lose, I grabbed the blade as soon as it came down with my prosthetic hand, slowing it down before grabbing the blunt end of the blade with my true hand, stopping the sword entirely before the raven-haired bitch could pull the blade back up to try again.

I _reeeeeeeeaaaaaaaallllllly_ shouldn't have called her a cunt now that I think about it.

The woman held a look of confusion for only a split second before turning to almost unnoticeable yet tranquil anger. I could feel my grip on the woman's blade begin to loosen as she increased her the pressure on her grip and pushed the sword down further. I could see the blade push itself further into my throat, and needed that to breathe right.

This couldn't last forever, the both of us knew it. Fortunately, she didn't know that the sexy sunovabitch known as moi just so happened to have a brain and set of reflexes to smoothlygo with his military-toned hunk of muscles.

With a single move, I pushed the blade with my hand (the fleshy one, that this) and scooted my head out of the way so the rest of me couldn't be skewered by that long red shishkebab she just so happened to still be holding. I lifted my legs up and stretched them out, both feet impacting against her stomach, causing her to skid back while I rolled back to my feet, blade and gun in hand. I looked right back up to see her charging at me once more.

I raised my blade up once more to brace the attack, knowing that this one was going to hurt like a bitch if I didn't think fast enough. I watched as she disappeared in a flash of red and black, leaving her whereabouts unknown. I spun around to meet her once more, sure that I knew clearly about her style of fighting, only to meet nothing as I immediately halted on the spot.

A gust of wind greeted my from behind, causing me to instinctively spin around. I made a horizontal swipe as I turned around, only to watch as my attacker ducked under the strike and draw her sword upwards, slamming me backwards with an upward slice.

 _ **"KIT at 2 percent,"**_ Omicron warned once more. I rebalanced myself in mid-air as I flew before landing clumsily on my feet, staggering slightly before straightening out once more... only to look up and see that same angry woman speed towards me with her sword finally poised to skewer me once more.

She drew close, enough for her sword to strike within range. It was too late for me to dodge, otherwise I'd be bisected in mid roll. I did nothing else but raise my blade and hope for the best.

It'll be painless, right? I closed my eyes and tensed up every muscle possible.

 ***CLANG!***

One second...

Two...

Three...

Am I dead?

I opened my eyes and looked back up to see another surprising sight before me. Yet again, the same one that saved Trey, Nick, and I.

"Hey kid, surprised to see me again?" Qrow asked with a slight grin on his face, his sword impaled into the ground, the black-haired man standing between the woman and I. He turned away from me before pulling the sword and sheathing it across his waist, the smile on his face disappearing into a snarl, "You can stop with the vigilante bullshit now, I can handle this now."

Before I even had the indecent idea to fume at the man with an furious rant, I turned my attention to the woman. My jaw nearly dropped as I watched her sheathe her sword, "Friend of yours, brother?"

"What're you doing here, Raven?" the man demanded, motioning to her with a nod,"I got word around the city of suspicious activity that sounds a little too close to your... methods."

I scowled at the man before me. Figures that he'd known about this the whole time, even worse that he'd lie and bring me along for a so-called "vacation". Hell, why'd he even bring me in the first pla-

HOLD ON, WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE!

"BROTHER?!" I screamed, the two looking at me with conflicting expressions. The newly dubbed "Raven" only glared at my interruption, while Qrow merely chuckled awkwardly.

"Kid," Qrow started, scratching the back of his head, "Remember when I said I had a sister? Yeah... well, meet Raven Branwen, my twin and a real fucking piece of work right in front of us."

"Wherever I go, dear brother. You always follow in my wake," she smirked, taking a closer step towards us, "The tribe wants you back, Qrow. You no longer have to work with Ozpin if you so desire it."

I watched as Qrow removed his blade from his waist once more, his finger twitching on the mechanism that changed his sword into a scythe, "I can tell from the crowd of angry tribesmen angrily chanting my name when I passed through. But no dice, Raven. Now I'll ask you one last time: what are you doing here?"

Raven merely glared once more before looking at her brother, "There was a murder among the tribe."

Qrow only raised an eyebrow, "So? You've said it before: 'the strong live and the weak die', right? I don't expect them to really stay unified with their leader lacking one of their top warriors."

"This wasn't among us," she said in a hushed tone, reaching into one of her pockets and pulling out two photos, handing one to Qrow, "You remember Liana, right? Had two kids just last year, a two healthy boys."

"Congratulations, Raven, two new soldiers to add to the stock," he replied sarcastically, "But what happened specifically?"

I leaned over the man's shoulder to get a glimpse. Instead, Qrow outright handed me the photograph. I nodded my thanks and took a look, seeing a hardened warrior of a woman, black hair tied back in thick braids with piercing green eyes.

"She was killed," Raven answered, "Her children as well. I suspect an outside force involved."

Qrow only nodded solemnly, "Grimm attacks happen all the time. You have my sympathies, Raven, but not my sword."

She held up a hand, "I never said it was the Creatures of Grimm."

Now that had my attention, "What then?"

Raven glanced at me before answering, "The White Fang."

"Oh really? And what gives you that impression?" Qrow raised an eyebrow before another photograph was handed. I looked over to see a bloodstained and torn White Fang insignia clutched in a zoomed in hand, "...Oh."

"This was found in Liana's hand when I found her. She was raped, murdered, her children killed. We came to Mistral to gather supplies for the next trip. This attack against our tribe was personal and will be carried out with extreme prejudice," Raven spat, her eyes burning with an intense hatred, "What are you going to do about it, brother?"

I watched Qrow's shoulders rise slightly before falling once more: a silent sigh, "As much as I want to help, sister. I'm not going to get involved with the tribe again. I'll see if I can get another Huntsman to investigate but-"

"I'll do it."

Raven and Qrow turned with identical expressions, both being a mixture of surprise and shock.

"What?" they both replied, staring back at me after the words left my lips.

Raven was the first to reply after she and her brother's confused answer, "Why?"

I tilted my head as though I had the most obvious answer in the world, "The White Fang was once an organization that wanted peace, equality between humankind and faunus. Now? It's become violent and radical organization that hates everything that has to do with humans and even faunus that disagree with their views. So, basically, they are now a terrorist group, correct?"

The woman furrowed her eyebrows before nodding slowly.

I clapped my hands together, "Then you have my reasons. You want vengeance, and I want justice. And it just so happens that we have a common enemy."

She looked at Qrow, then looked back at me, "Why should I even **consider** your help? Not even ten minutes ago, you had broken into our operations, injured my men, and now you want to help?"

"I may not be as strong as Qrow, or as fast as Ozpin. But both he and this man have taken me under their wing... no pun intended," Qrow only rolled his eyes at my response, muttering something about 'Tai', "But consider me his second if you wish. I'm smarter than most, I'm agile, and-" I removed my helmet and looked her dead in the eye, "I nearly had your ass beat, what does that say about me?"

"That you're an absolute idiot-"

Ouch.

"-a completely reckless fool-"

Double ouch.

"And... a warrior containing... a powerful drive within them," she answered, looking away with a slight flush on her face.

Not so ouch.

"Are you seriously considering this, kid?" Qrow stared at me with the most incredulous look anyone could give me, "One wrong move and she'll have your head... quite literally, depending on her mood."

I shrugged, "What is bravery without a dash of recklessness? Besides, you got the perfect excuse: I'm chilling in Mistral while you can do what you want, Ozpin doesn't have to know and you'll get off scot-free."

Qrow looked up for a moment, "Fine, I'll let you go with her. But I have to tell Ozpin, almost everything reaches his ears eventually. Just... be careful."

He nodded to me before I turned to look at Raven, "If I'm going to be working with you, then you'll have to tell me where we're going before we leave. I really don't like enigmatic bullshit, just to let you know."

Raven merely shrugged, "We're heading to Menagerie, I suspect that's where they've headed. What better place to hide than their own homeland, if my sense of tracking them down hasn't misled me?"

"With one of their own best warriors tracking down Liana's killer, how'll the tribe survive?" Qrow raised an eyebrow.

"They've survived for years even without us, Qrow. I don't expect them to fall between now and the accomplishment of our mission," Raven answered before looking to me, "After this is through, our partnership is as well. You will not here or see from me until I wish it."

"Alright then, I guess I'll see you la..." I turned to Qrow, who had already disappeared... goddamn, that's some Dark Knight-level of BS right there, "Damn it."

"You better be ready," Raven said, ignoring the young man's irritation, "We leave in only a matter of hours, so it is best that you prepare now."

Double damn it.

 _ **"Sucks to be you, Eddy,"**_ Zeta giggled within his head.

 _'Aaaaaaaaaaand mute!'_

 _ **"Eddy! Don't you dare-"**_ she was then muted.

Ah good, peace and silence at last.

Now, I had one last thing to go over now that that's been taken care of.

"Alright, Raven," I turned to the woman, loading a fresh magazine into my pistol and inspecting my sword before sheathing the both of them, "What're your plans when we get to Menagerie?"

I only caught a ghost of a smirk as she picked up the mask that had previously slipped off of her before dusting it off and placing it back over her face, "Where do we begin first?"

I caught myself smiling as she said that.

 _This was going to be fun._

* * *

 **Disclaimer: Alright, it's been a while since I updated. Sorry that it's taken so long, but I've had a bad writer's block. Besides that, I've also a few more stuff on my hands that prevented me from finishing this chapter sooner, so, my apologies.**

 **Went along with the votes and wrote the Raven and her tribe chapter, granted some perspective from the AI's point of view, as well as other new stuff. I only hope that was entertaining.**

 **Nothing new other than enjoy the chapter. Don't forget to leave a review for what you think of the story, if it needs any work done on it, etc..**

 **And as always, stay beautiful, ladies and gents.**


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